Finding Destiny
by pumpkinmoose22
Summary: A traitor revealed, a plan foiled, all seems to be - wait, what the -? Merlin is a five year old! What's a king to do? Especially when his crazy half sister is trying to take over Camelot - again!
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone! For those of you coming from my Merlin/Harry Potter crossover, welcome back! To those of you who are new and decided to give this story a chance, welcome and thank you! So, a couple of things: this story is mostly written already so weekly posts will be made (Yay! You don't have to worry about waiting months before an update!) Also, I'm going to be taking a lot of dialogue from the show and mixing it in with this story; don't worry, I'm going to put a disclaimer on each chapter and I'm certainly not going to claim that I own any of the words I take!**

 **This story takes place in season four right after A Servant of Two Masters (one of the best Merlin episodes ever, in my opinion) and just before The Secret Sharer. I hope you all like what I have to give you. :)**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or the dialogue I've taken from the show itself.**

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01: Traitor

What should he do? What shouldn't he do?

The evidence was clear but acknowledging it…

It was so _painful._

The ache in the king's heart was eating him from the inside out. He felt like someone was pummeling him repeatedly with a mace. First Morgana, now possibly Agravaine? It had been over a year since his sister had stormed the citadel and revealed her true colors; over a year that his uncle had been by his side, giving him advice and strength through the difficult times.

Had it truly all been a lie? Was Agravaine really the traitor in their midst, the one who gave away the secret route Arthur and his most trusted knights had taken a few days before? The route had been known only to a select few. None of the knights would have betrayed him; they were with him then and all were still accounted for now. The three councilmen who knew of the treaty didn't know of the route. This left Agravaine and Gaius as the only two who knew the plan to go through the Valley of the Fallen Kings.

Well, Gaius was like his second father. During Arthur's earlier confrontation with his uncle, Agravaine had pinpointed him as the traitor but the king knew in his heart that the old physician would never betray him. He'd served Camelot faithfully for years. He had been one of the few men in his father's confidence and Uther's trust was almost impossible to earn. Arthur couldn't ignore that fact. Even if his father was now gone, he'd seen enough loyalty from Gaius towards him to know that the man was incapable of treason.

That left Agravaine as the only one capable of turning against him and the more Arthur pondered this conclusion, the heavier his heart became. Agravaine had said Arthur was all that he had left of his sister Ygraine, that the last thing he would ever do is betray him. But then he immediately tried to plant the seed of doubt into the king's mind concerning Gaius – as if he were covering his own tracks. To place the blame on another so quickly… it was definitely suspicious. As much as Arthur hated to admit it, the capability of his uncle committing treason was entirely plausible.

Right… now that he had –bitterly- decided that yet another family member intended him nothing but ill-will, what should he do? Should he confront Agravaine again? Should he simply watch his movements to see if any further treachery occurred? Should he arrest him and let him rot in prison for a few days before demanding a confession?

Arthur rubbed his tired eyes, noticing how low the candle was now burning on his desk. He had been sitting here for hours, staring off into space with his mouth resting against threaded fingers. He vaguely remembered Merlin coming in to take away his empty dinner tray and prepare his chambers for his eventual retirement. He'd dismissed the man with nothing more than a wave of his hand. Normally Merlin would have tried to relieve him of the stresses on his mind but every now and then Arthur needed to be left alone with his thoughts and –remarkably- his overly-cheerful manservant had the knack of knowing when those times were. He'd felt Merlin's concerned glance as he slipped out of the room. It had deeply touched the young king. Without words Arthur knew Merlin had left a silent invitation in that look: _if you need to talk, you know where to find me._

But should he tell Merlin?

Already he knew the answer to _that_ question. _Of course_ he would tell him! He told Merlin everything; even though sometimes, due to his stubborn pride, it took the annoyingly astute servant to wiggle the information out of him – because Merlin always knew when he was troubled. Sure the king could trust Guinevere, Gaius, and the Knights of the Round Table but Merlin was, well, _Merlin._ He was the first one to ever acknowledge Arthur without a title and treat him as a person instead of a prince. He wouldn't sugarcoat his words or refrain from speaking his mind and that meant more to Arthur than all the riches of the world. He needed complete honesty right now and out of everyone, Merlin would give it. He could always count on him.

Besides, Merlin would never, ever betray him. The very thought was completely laughable! The man was loyal to a fault and, though Arthur would never admit it to _anyone,_ Merlin had grown from simply being his manservant to the little brother he'd never had. Arthur trusted him more than any other. Through thick and thin, through triumphs and mistakes, Merlin had never left his side. He was honest when expressing his thoughts and he wasn't afraid to be himself. He unwaveringly walked on equal ground with the king. To most this was deplorable behavior but to Arthur it meant the world.

No, Merlin would never let him down.

This is why he'd panicked mere days ago from nearly losing the man. Arthur shuddered as he remembered Merlin lying in that gorge as the rocks fell, separating them. Never before had he felt so powerless, so desperate, so _terrified_. He had tried to move the boulders and find a way around but it was all in vain. His only hope had been to regroup with the knights, return to Camelot, and send out as many patrols as needed to find his missing friend. When all came back without him, Arthur couldn't accept that Merlin was gone. It was one of the most relieving moments of his life when the idiot stumbled out of the woods with that trademark grin on his mud-covered face. He never wanted to have to live with the possibility of losing Merlin ever again. The darkness he had felt, the inescapable chasm his heart had been falling into, was a place he never wanted to be acquainted with. Because that was what life without Merlin would be: _empty_.

Rubbing his eyes one more time Arthur groaned, suddenly feeling the fatigue he'd ignored for the last two hours slam into him from all sides. Rising from his chair, he snuffed out the candle and wandered wearily over to his bed. Merlin had fluffed his pillows just as he liked them and turned down the covers in preparation for easy entrance. Removing his shirt and boots, Arthur tossed them on the floor – Merlin would pick them up in the morning – and burrowed under the covers. Sighing, Arthur put a hand behind his head and stared at his four poster ceiling.

When should he confess his suspicions to Merlin? If he kept them to himself the gnawing pain in his chest would only grow worse. Right, sooner than later then. But should he tell him first thing in the morning or wait a day or two? Perhaps a day or two… he had a lot of other kingly duties to attend to after all. Maybe after learning his schedule tomorrow he could find time to squeeze in a moment with his manservant to ease his weary mind? But then he'd have to face Agravaine all day while hiding behind a façade of trust! Could he do it?

Frustrated, Arthur raked his fingers through his short blonde locks. He was bone tired with having to deal with all the pressures the crown entailed. He'd always wondered why his father seemed so stressed. How had the man managed to do it? The burden of being a king was ten times that of a prince. Arthur's eyes filled a little with tears.

"I need you now more than ever, father," he whispered in the dark. "I don't know what to do. What would you do?"

No response came. Arthur laughed at himself. He was being stupid. Of course his father wasn't going to whisper step by step instructions from the grave. His reign had come to an untimely end and now it was Arthur's turn to wear the mantle of kingship. It was now _his_ duty to make the decisions that would benefit his kingdom and protect his people. No one could rule for him. But he desperately needed advice!

Before he even knew what he was doing, Arthur flung the covers aside, threw on the night shirt Merlin had left out that he'd forgotten to put on, and quickly slipped back into his boots. Walking with haste but not so much to concern the few guards he passed, Arthur found his way down to the physician's chambers. Quietly unlatching the door, he peeked inside. Gaius was already asleep, the old man's gentle snores being heard from the corner of the room. Arthur crept in and gazed upon the physician for a moment.

There was no way Gaius could possibly be the traitor. His actions all of Arthur's life had been nothing but honorable. Fighting the urge to snort at the very thought of Gaius betraying him, Arthur crossed the room and headed up the stairs where his manservant slept. Sliding through the door, the king made out the state of the room – a rather cluttered mess – from the dull moonlight filtering through Merlin's window. The man himself was on his side, his eyes closed, his breathing deep. Arthur's gaze softened as he watched the idiot a moment more. He meant more to him than anyone else – besides Guinevere.

Masking his fondness behind a slight frown, Arthur reached forward and nudged Merlin awake. The young man awoke with a start, his blue eyes filled with confusion, his hair sticking up from where it had indented the pillow.

"Arthur?" he questioned, rubbing one of his eyes sleepily, "What the devil are you doing, sneaking into my room in the middle of the night?"

"Just shut up and get dressed," Arthur instructed.

Frowning, Merlin actually did what he was told without further argument. Arthur was sure it was just because the man was tired; any other time he would have retorted with some display of quick wit. The manservant hastily latched his boots and threw his familiar brown jacket over his thin blue shirt before looking at Arthur with an expectant frown and inner concern.

Arthur indicated with a nod for Merlin to follow before the two tiptoed out into the hall and proceeded down to the lower levels of the castle where the armory was. Taking a torch from the wall, Arthur walked past the grand room and quickly pulled Merlin into a smaller side chamber, one with a thick door being the only entrance. Securing it with a long plank of wood, the king turned to face his now quite bemused manservant.

"Okay… you wake me up in the middle of the night, drag me down here, and bar the door," Merlin mused. "What's on your mind, Arthur? It must be something important if you couldn't wait until morning to tell me while you ate your breakfast in your own chambers."

The king raised a blonde eyebrow. Merlin was a lot sharper than he gave him credit for sometimes. Setting the torch he was holding into an available bracket, Arthur ran both his hands through his hair and started pacing. Merlin watched him do this for a solid minute before he couldn't take it anymore.

"Arthur," he pressed, worry radiating through his words, "what is it?"

The king spun around to face him. _Here goes nothing_. "I think Agravaine is the traitor I've been trying to find for the last couple of days," he confessed in a rush.

Merlin's reaction was not what Arthur had been expecting. After the slight shock, the man suddenly became very still, his eyes falling to his boots.

"Ah."

Realization dawned and the king's eyes narrowed. "You're not surprised by this. Merlin?"

"You're right… I'm not," he muttered.

"You know something," Arthur pressed, stepping closer to him. "Merlin, tell me."

Merlin's unique blue eyes glanced up from under his lashes and Arthur was surprised to see pain there. But it wasn't the pain of betraying one's trust; it was the pain one experienced when having to reveal something that would hurt the hearer. Even so, Arthur needed to know. He prompted Merlin with a look.

"I started suspecting a while ago," he finally confessed, "but when Agravaine convinced you to kill Caerleon I knew for sure he didn't have your best interest at heart. He manipulated you into doing something that was against who you are."

"And you tried to warn me," Arthur murmured, even now regretting his decision to follow his uncle's 'advice'. His sorrow was great as he looked up at his best friend. "I'm sorry, Merlin."

The manservant's countenance softened. "It's in the past, Arthur."

Such forgiveness. A lesser man would have hung it over his head – gloated even! – but not Merlin. The man could see Arthur's remorse and felt there wasn't a need to further dwell on the matter. He truly was a saint.

The king leaned against the wall. "Have you seen Agravaine do anything else?"

"I followed him once," Merlin hedged, "into the woods. Arthur…"

Merlin paused. As he gathered his courage to continue, Arthur felt a horrible sense of foreboding.

"Go on," the king prompted even though a part of him was afraid of what was about to be revealed. His heart began tightening within his chest. He held his breath.

Merlin reluctantly finished, "He was talking to Morgana."

Arthur swore. His anger getting the better of him, he spun around and slammed his fist against the stone wall. Ignoring the small ache in his hand, he raged, "I should have _known!_ I should have _suspected!_ " He swore again. _"Why,_ Merlin? Why has he betrayed me? What have I done wrong?"

Merlin rested a comforting hand on the king's shoulder. "You have done nothing wrong, Arthur. We may not know exactly why Agravaine has decided to deceive you but one thing I am sure of: _you are not to blame_. You are honorable and just; a worthy king. Agravaine made his own choice and you should not hold yourself accountable for that."

Arthur closed his eyes, breathing deeply, trying to hide the burning within them but a few traitorous drops managed to fall from his eyelashes. Hastily wiping them away, he cleared his throat and faced Merlin who, thankfully, didn't look at him any differently for his moment of weakness.

"Does anyone else know?"

Merlin bit his lip. "Gaius does. I think Gwen might be a little suspicious as well. At least, she has confessed to me that Agravaine sometimes makes her feel uncomfortable."

Arthur's mind reeled. "Why didn't she tell me?" he muttered. He hadn't meant to ask that but the hurt in his heart had spewed forth the words.

Merlin squeezed his shoulder again. "Arthur, like it or not Agravaine is your uncle and up until now you valued his presence and his counsel. I wanted to tell you before -and I'm sure Gwen did as well- but we both know how much you care about Agravaine and we didn't want to hurt you."

"Well I don't care for him anymore," Arthur snapped.

"Of course you do," Merlin countered. "You wouldn't be hurting right now if you didn't. Arthur, showing painful emotion is not weakness. It proves that you are human, capable of feeling. There is grave danger when a person stops feeling as you now are. Allow your heart to hurt for it makes you a better man."

Arthur's breathing was ragged as he took in the wise words of his dear friend. Once again Merlin astounded him. He always knew the right thing to say. "Even so," Arthur muttered, "something must be done about him. Did you know that I actually tried to confront him today? The coward defended himself by using our blood relation and then pegged Gaius as the traitor!"

Merlin froze.

"Don't worry," Arthur assured, "not for a second do I believe Gaius would suddenly turn against me. That man has done more for me, _for Camelot_ , than my uncle ever did. Gaius is a true friend and confidant. I trust him with my life."

Merlin beamed. "I'm glad you do, Arthur. I'm also glad you told me of your suspicions." His smile faded. "What do you plan to do?"

"I don't know," Arthur confessed. "I've already tried confronting him and that didn't work. What would you do, Merlin, if you were me?"

Merlin blinked, a little surprised at the abrupt question. Arthur waited, watching as he seriously contemplated his answer. "I wouldn't do anything hastily," he said after a time. "I would observe and wait for the opportune moment to discover him in the act of treason. Your uncle has a quick tongue and a knack for using it to cover his true intentions; I've seen it at work several times. But if you actually _catch_ him doing something contrary to his proclaimed loyalty to you, it will be easy to take him down."

Arthur weighed in Merlin's words, nodding to himself. "You know, Merlin, you actually might have a brain in that head of yours."

The manservant smirked. "I've often thought I was the one gifted with intelligence out of the two of us."

"I think you're confusing intelligence with stupidity, Merlin. Now _that_ you have in spades."

The two shared one of their unique grins before the moment passed and sobriety filled them. Arthur stepped forward and clasped Merlin firmly on the shoulder.

"Thank you, old friend," he muttered sincerely.

"I'm always here should you need me, Arthur."

The king's heart swelled. Loyalty and devotion radiated not only from the words but from the manservant's soul. Arthur couldn't understand how Merlin could be so devoted to him but he appreciated it with all his heart.

"We'll both have to keep our eye out," he muttered. Merlin nodded along with him. Arthur paused. "Should we tell the others?"

Knowing that he spoke of those belonging to the Round Table, Merlin pondered this a moment. "If you think it will benefit exposing Agravaine then I don't see the harm. We can trust them."

Arthur smiled. "I know and I agree with you."

Another moment of silence passed before Merlin yawned. The king suddenly felt just as tired, suppressing a yawn himself with the back of his hand.

"Are we done now?" asked Merlin, "Or is there something else?"

Arthur smirked. "Tired are we?"

"You're the one who woke me up in the middle of the night," Merlin groused, folding his arms. "And as glad as I am that you finally have the wool pulled off your eyes, some of us have to be up at the crack of dawn for our jobs."

"You can sleep in if you'd like," Arthur offered.

Merlin's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "Now I _know_ you're tired. You're never this generous."

Arthur scowled. "Seriously Merlin, I'm going to be tired enough as it is, seeing as I'm up just as late as you. We could both use a lie-in."

Merlin appeared severely tempted but then his expression turned to one of resolve. "Sorry, your Majesty, but duty calls. You have a long list of things to do tomorrow and I can't be responsible for not doing my job in ensuring you do yours."

Arthur groaned. "Can't I have one day to sleep in?"

"Not now that you're the king," Merlin jibed happily with that annoyingly endearing grin of his.

Arthur rubbed his eyes. "Fine then. Since you're so eager to make sure I do my job, I'll make sure to have an extensive list for _you_ to complete tomorrow as well." Merlin looked horrified. Arthur smirked. "It goes both ways, Merlin. If I have to work so do you."

"That's not fair," Merlin grumbled as Arthur lifted the plank of wood off the door and the two made their way back towards the main part of the castle. "I already do more work than you on a regular day!"

"Then having a little extra shouldn't be too hard for you," Arthur grinned, patting Merlin's cheek. "Now, get some rest. You'll need it."

"Prat," Merlin muttered, turning in the direction of Gaius's chambers.

Arthur's expression turned to fondness again as he watched Merlin's retreating back. Already he felt better. Trust Merlin to know exactly what he needed. Not that his heart hurt any less from what he had to do; it was just easier now that he shared the burden with someone else. Sighing, Arthur made it back to his chambers and slipped into bed after once more removing his shirt and shoes; of course he left them on the floor for Merlin to pick up in the morning. Unlike before, this time he fell into a peaceful slumber.

[][][]

"Up you get!"

The command came as the curtains were thrown open, bathing the room in a fierce burst of sunlight. Arthur opened his eyes merely a fraction but he didn't move. He hated mornings.

"What for?" he asked groggily into his pillow.

"A bath!" Merlin replied, yanking the covers away from his back.

Arthur continued his stubborn vigil, refusing to move and reclosing his eyes. Where did Merlin find the energy? Both of them were up late and yet the man was running about with a spring in his step! Well, he may be willing to move around like an excited deer but Arthur was perfectly happy remaining in bed. Perhaps he could delay getting up with an excuse to get Merlin to go away? Then it hit him.

"Where's breakfast?" he asked.

Ha! Merlin would have to go retrieve it and that meant extra time to stay nestled happily against his soft pillow! He felt his mattress shift unexpectedly behind him before Merlin grabbed his head, twisting it around.

"Say 'ah'," Merlin commanded.

Arthur opened his mouth to speak and Merlin jammed a scone into it. The king gagged a little, making muffled sounds of protest as the servant left his bed.

" _Mur-_ in!" he complained, yanking the bread from his jaws and spitting out the crumbs.

Dropping the scone, he reclosed his eyes. He was _not_ getting up! Especially if one measly scone was the only thing Merlin deemed as 'breakfast'.

"I set aside some practice time," Merlin rambled behind him.

That elicited a response. The hope of being able to spar with the knights had him turning over in anticipation. "Oh, wonderful! What for?"

Since becoming king, Arthur didn't get to head out to the training grounds as much as he had as a prince. It was something he sorely missed.

"Quarterstaff? Battle ax?" he asked hopefully.

"Your speech," Merlin answered, speaking to the desk.

Arthur frowned. _Right, no sparring with the knights then_ , he thought, disappointed. Wait! He didn't remember having to give a speech today. "Who to?"

"The guild of harness polishers."

"The guild of who? I don't know anything about polishing!" Arthur protested.

He glanced over at Merlin who was currently unraveling a scroll extending from over his head down to his waist. "Fortunately, I do."

The king filled with dread. "That'll take hours to learn," he said disdainfully.

"You don't have hours," Merlin muttered, setting the scroll down to pick up a parchment and quill. "First, you're to receive Odin's envoy."

Arthur inwardly groaned. "Do I have to give a speech?"

"No." Merlin grinned. "You have to listen to one."

The annoyance started to build and the king blew a puff of air from his cheeks while trying hard not to roll his eyes.

Merlin continued on, ignoring his irritation. "Then you're to inspect the guards, perform a freeman's ceremony – oh," Merlin clicked his tongue. Arthur looked at him in anticipation as he glanced up. "And be a judge."

"Preside over a trial?"

"A garland competition!" Merlin declared with cheerful gusto.

That was the last straw. Outwardly groaning now, Arthur rolled his eyes and flopped back into his pillows. Nope, he quit. He didn't want to do any of those things – least of all judging _a garland competition._ Couldn't someone else do that?!

Yanking the covers back over his body, he turned his back on Merlin and complained, "Never get any time to myself!"

"I know, it's almost like having to work," Merlin mused. "Come on. We don't have time for this."

Just as Arthur was resituating himself into a more comfortable position, Merlin grabbed him by the shoulders and yanked him onto his back, attempting to remove the covers from his body.

"No!" Arthur protested, fighting to reclaim the blankets.

"Come on. Out!" Merlin pulled. "Out of bed!"

With surprising force, his manservant managed to successfully drag him off the mattress and onto the floor. A weak protest came from the king as he fell, "No!"

"You're doing very well, Arthur," Merlin commented as he walked away, leaving the king sprawled undignified on the ground.

"I don't think so," Arthur muttered while doing nothing to get up. His stubbornness refused to comply. The only way he was going to get up was if Merlin hoisted him to his feet! _Like he could!_ He inwardly smirked.

"Everyone's saying it."

"I'm glad your friends at the tavern approve," Arthur griped as Merlin came back into his frame of vision holding a shirt under his arm.

"I'm serious," Merlin stooped down, scooping his hands under Arthur's arms and beginning to lift him from the floor. Arthur had to admire the man's tenacity; a lesser servant would have left him in bed long ago. He also couldn't help being surprised that Merlin found the strength to lift him at all! "You're becoming a very good king," Merlin continued to praise.

"Thank you." Arthur groaned. "You're still the worst servant I've ever known."

Keeping his unspoken promise since Merlin managed to get him to his feet, he submitted to silent defeat and took the shirt offered to him instead of jumping back onto his mattress. Someone knocked on the door.

"Enter," Arthur called.

The very man he didn't want to see poked his head through the door. "Good morning, my lord," Agravaine greeted, striding into the room, "May I have a word?"

"Of course," Arthur muttered as he hid his face in his hands.

Ugh. Really? Did he have to deal with this already? He could feel Merlin's silent concern on his back as both recalled last night's discussion. Arthur would just have to fake ignorance. Besides, this conversation might help him expose his uncle's true colors.

"Uh, the matter I wish to discuss is a delicate one, sire," Agravaine hesitantly replied. "Perhaps it would be better if we talked alone."

The implication was clear. He wanted Merlin out of the way. Could it be that he suspected Merlin was on to him? If that were true then Arthur would have to order the foolhardy servant to be more cautious. If Agravaine truly was in league with Morgana then Merlin was definitely in danger. Arthur had seen what his sister could do. Her magic had destroyed the throne room last year. He didn't even want to think what it could do to someone meddling in her plans. But he couldn't let Agravaine know that he suspected him just yet. Let the traitor believe he was still in his good graces.

Dismissing Merlin with a nod, they shared a silent look. Merlin clearly was telling Arthur to be careful and the king was replying with an unspoken order to stay close. The door closed after him and Arthur walked behind his partition, deciding to act casual by doing the usual morning routine.

"We know there is a traitor amongst us," Agravaine began.

"I wish I could deny it," Arthur answered, grateful he was behind something so his uncle couldn't see the anger burning from his eyes.

"We have to consider everyone." – _including you?_ Arthur silently griped – "Even those dearest to us. No one can be above suspicion."

"Of course."

Arthur scowled at the man's audacity to believe he was omitted from this consideration. _Believe me, uncle, I'm well aware of who the traitor may be! ….Calm yourself_ , he thought (in a voice that sounded annoyingly like Merlin) _you can't give anything away_.

"So, one of your knights?"

Arthur's anger doubled. Again, he was trying to cloud his judgment by suggesting others instead of himself! How _cowardly!_

"No," he answered with finality.

"You're sure?"

 _Keep calm. Keep calm._

"I would vouch for each and every one of them."

 _There!_ He was pleased he sounded perfectly composed. _It's just a conversation. Treat it like a normal conversation; a serious one, but a normal one just the same._

"Well, I have suggested Gaius before, but…" -Arthur's teeth ground together as he tightened the grip on his boots- "…I can't believe he'd betray you."

Arthur could almost see the man's smirk as he listened to the words. Merlin was right; his uncle had quite a tongue. He probably could lie his way through anything and sound sincere.

"Nor I. Gaius has _always_ been a loyal servant," Arthur defended, yanking his shirt from the partition. "Indeed, a friend – to me and my father." _Unlike you,_ he silently added.

He heard Agravaine walk away. "Well, it was Gaius who told you where to find the sorcerer that killed your father. Wasn't it?"

Arthur emerged from the screen, his eyes narrowing only the slightest bit. Though his uncle's bluntness concerning his father's passing hurt, he did, unfortunately, have a point.

"And we do know that he has dabbled in sorcery," Agravaine went on. "What if his interest in the dark arts has been rekindled?"

Arthur turned his back to him, allowing his uncle to slip his red cover over his arms. Gaius may have practiced sorcery but he denounced it when his father asked him to. He had stuck by that vow with a vengeance. Never had Arthur seen the man using magic. Agravaine was trying to rattle him.

"I've always believed I can trust Gaius," he said, twisting around to face his uncle.

"Oh, me too," Agravaine chuckled. "Perhaps I am being a little hasty. But it wouldn't do any harm to ask him some questions, would it?"

It took a lot of self control not to shout for the guards to take this insufferable rat to the dungeons. How dare he suggest such a thing!

"I'm not sure there's any need."

"Oh, I believe there is, sire," Agravaine persisted. "We're talking about your safety and the safety of the realm. Somebody is plotting against you, and it is my duty to investigate every possibility, however unlikely. I'm sure that Gaius himself would respect that."

Arthur frowned. Question Gaius? Preposterous! But wait; maybe he could use this to his advantage? His uncle was being very insistent. Perhaps, if he consented, he would be able to uncover further treachery by him. He could always reassure Gaius later that he didn't suspect him at all and of course he would tell Merlin what this slippery snake was up to.

Agravaine smiled at him.

"Very well," Arthur relented, "but this is to be done in privacy. Just you, Gaius, and myself."

Agravaine's eyes shined with inner triumph as he bowed his head. "Of course, my lord. I volunteer to handle the questioning myself, if that is alright?"

"That will suffice." His words tasted vile in his mouth as he reluctantly continued, "Thank you for your diligence concerning this matter, uncle. Though the idea of a traitor greatly displeases me, I'm glad I can rely on your help."

"I am happy to give it, Arthur," Agravaine squeezed his shoulder with false affection.

"I have some things to take care of but I will send for you in the afternoon."

Agravaine followed him out of his chambers and Arthur was more than grateful to find Merlin standing there just outside the door. Agravaine took his leave with a final nod of the head, his smug smile back in place as he practically strutted down the hall. Arthur's scowl was deep as he watched him go.

"I take it that whatever he had to say, it wasn't pleasant," Merlin guessed as the two started walking to the throne room.

"Not at all," Arthur grumbled.

He then, in hushed tones, told Merlin what had been said. By the time he finished, Merlin's anger was comparable with his own.

"And you're actually going to go through with this?" he demanded.

Arthur paused with a prominent frown. "I don't like it any more than you but we have to keep up appearances. Merlin, no matter what, you can't tell Gaius that we're going to question him. It has to look real. I'll seek him out later to explain the situation but I need you to keep your silence until then. Can you do this?"

Merlin didn't look at all happy but he nodded his head. "Alright."

Arthur clapped him on the shoulder. "Remember what you said last night, Merlin? This may lead to how we craftily eradicate the enemy."

"I know – but that doesn't mean I have to like it."

"Nor I," Arthur sighed. "Come on; we both might as well be bored to death listening to a dreary speech from Odin's envoy."

"But I have chores to do," Merlin protested although he allowed the king to steer him down the hall anyway.

"I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to do them after the speech," Arthur said cheerfully.

Not that he would admit it to anyone but Merlin often kept him entertained during boring speeches and council meetings. The man had a knack for fighting against his eyelids while standing, his head bobbing with occasional jerky movements from his gangly limbs. Oh, and let's not forget -when he was actually conscious- the hilarious faces he pulled when none but Arthur were watching. The king grinned. Merlin was the perfect remedy for boredom.

"Come on; it'll be fun!" he teased.

"Prat," Merlin muttered as he followed the king inside the throne room.

Arthur had to school his grin; it wouldn't do for the king to look undignified in front of another kingdom's messenger. Striding across the hall, he made it to the throne and sat down, motioning for the guards to retrieve Odin's representative as Merlin took up his place by the wall. Ignoring his manservant's annoyed glare, Arthur thought about all the things he had to do today. He may not be looking forward to any of them but the thought of later questioning Gaius filled him with dread and he found himself wishing that moment would never arrive.

Unfortunately, time never allows anyone to get away from what they are trying to avoid and before he knew it, it was the late afternoon and he found himself in the council room with his uncle, waiting for Gaius to appear.

[][][]

The door swung shut behind Agravaine but the tension in the air was still as thick as fog. Arthur sat in his chair at the head of the table, his mind whirling with indecision and uncertainty. It hadn't been at all pleasant to watch his uncle interrogate a man he considered a close friend and confidant. But Gaius's answers had been incredibly evasive. Agravaine had questioned him concerning his stance on magic and the physician had been most reluctant to respond, his replies vague and impersonal. It was obvious even to Arthur that Gaius did not feel comfortable with the law concerning sorcery and, even though he said he had only heard of where the sorcerer who killed his father could be found, it was easy to see through the lies. Gaius knew the old man. So why was he protecting him? Sorcerers and magic were evil. Arthur had been taught that mantra since he was born.

But Gaius had practiced sorcery long ago and he wasn't evil. He had denounced magic and hadn't used it since. Arthur believed he was speaking the truth when he said the laws were necessary to prevent those with evil intent from the use of magic but that implied there were those who used it in a good way. But that was absurd! Arthur had never heard of or seen magic being used for good - only evil.

And yet it bothered him, thinking that way. It almost made him uncomfortable. Gaius was a good man. He never would have used magic for ill intent, right? But then what had he used it for? Arthur found himself wanting to know.

Then, for the first time, he recounted that terrible night of his father's death with new found clarity as the words of the old sorcerer echoed through the recesses of his mind…

" _I know you have suffered because of magic, as many have. But not all magic and not all sorcerers are the same. I wish only to show you that magic can be used for good. I hope… one day you will see me in a different light."_

He had sounded so sincere then. He definitely didn't seem like someone with ill intentions. But he'd killed his father! Arthur had seen it with his own eyes! Yet… in his anger and grief, he failed to see what he saw now. Thinking back on it, as painful as it was, the old sorcerer didn't seem triumphant over Uther's demise. He had been confused, sad even. He'd run away but that may very well have been because he didn't want to be gutted with a sword. Merlin had later said that he believed the old man meant no harm, that the spell may have gone wrong. Uther had been dying from a mortal wound. Maybe… maybe nothing could have saved him, even magic?

Arthur was so confused. He had to talk to Gaius. The physician may be hiding things from him but he wanted, _needed_ , honesty. And, magic aside, he had to reassure the man that he didn't consider him the traitor. Confound it all! Even now his uncle was sowing seeds of doubt and mistrust! He knew how sensitive Arthur was towards his father's death and had used it as a stepping stone to plant uncertainty in the king's heart concerning those he knew he could trust. The man was good. Too good. Arthur berated himself. He needed to stay focused!

Pushing himself away from the table, he left the room and wandered down to the physician's chambers. Gaius was busy making some kind of potion, his worn hands swirling the unknown contents in a glass vial at eyelevel before replacing it on the table and turning to his visitor.

"Sire?" he questioned, his eyebrow raised.

His callous tone caused Arthur to wince though he knew he deserved it. He hadn't offered any assistance during his uncle's interrogation.

"Are we alone?" he asked, looking around.

Gaius's famous eyebrow rose a fraction more. "Merlin is doing his chores and I'm not expecting any patients. Was there something else you wished to discuss with me?"

Arthur's expression mirrored his inner remorse. "Gaius, I want to apologize for earlier."

"You are looking for a traitor, sire. I understand that you have to be wary of everyone."

"But not those whom I trust," Arthur gently countered. "Gaius, I don't believe you would ever turn against me. I've known you all my life and your loyalty not only to me but my father leaves no doubt in my mind that you only have my best interest at heart."

The old man's face, though surprised, filled with fondness as he accepted the unspoken apology. "I've looked after you since you were a nursling, Arthur. I love you far too much to ever betray you. I would protect you with my life if necessary."

The blatant honesty hit the king right in the heart and for a moment he was temporarily speechless. Warmth washed over him and his eyes began to sting. Clearing his throat, he walked over to Gaius and firmly grasped his shoulder.

"I'm grateful," he said, his voice thick with emotion. Swallowing painfully, he let his hand drop and sat down. Gaius joined him.

"Arthur, what's wrong?"

The king wrung his hands before clasping them together. "There is another matter that concerns me…"

"Go on."

"When you were asked about the sorcerer who killed my father," he turned to look the physician right in the eye, "you lied."

Gaius's gaze didn't waver. "I did, Sire."

"You admit it?"

"I chose to protect him. I feared you would seek him out and execute him. That would have been a grave mistake. The sorcerer did not kill your father. Uther was dying. He tried everything in his power to save him."

Arthur felt the raw emotions from earlier rushing back to him. Gaius's words were similar to what Merlin had said the day after his father's death. Could it really be true that the sorcerer had no intention to kill his father? Was it really possible that he wanted nothing more than to heal the former king? Arthur had a hard time believing it. Why would someone who practiced magic want to save a man who abhorred it? Why would he risk coming to Arthur's aid when his father had done nothing but persecute those like him? Had even once sentenced him personally to burn at the stake?

Gaius pulled him from his muddled thoughts. "Contained within this great kingdom is a rich variety of people with a range of different beliefs. I'm not the only one seeking to protect you. There are many more who believe in the world you are trying to create. One day, you will learn, Arthur. One day, you will understand just how much they've done for you."

Arthur's thoughts were once more taken back in time to a conversation he'd long forgotten.

" _You are asking me to save the life of a man that would have me executed?" Dragoon challenged._

" _I know what I am asking of you, and I know you have no reason to help me, but you're my father's only hope. I'll give you anything you ask for – land, gold, name your price."_

" _I don't want your gold! All I have ever wanted is that people like me can live in peace, that those who practice magic are accepted rather than hunted. That is all I ask. That is the price of your father's life."_

" _I give you my solemn word. When I am king, things will be different. You won't have to live in fear."_

" _Then, I will help you!"_

The old sorcerer had been so happy to hear him agree to his conditions and he had kept his word. He had tried to heal his father. He could have demanded anything but all he wanted was acceptance. The more Arthur thought on it, the more it appeared that Dragoon only wanted to help. Could he be part of those whom Gaius spoke of? Those who were trying to help him create a kingdom of prosperity, equality, and peace? Could magic really be used for good?

"Gaius, can I ask you something?"

"Anything, sire."

"You used to practice magic. What did you use it for, before you stopped?"

Gaius seemed entirely surprised by the question but he answered nonetheless. "I am a physician, sire. My studies and practices in sorcery were only ever used to aid my work. The vast amount of knowledge I learned was necessary in my field so I could help those who suffered from evil enchantments and injuries from magical beasts. But I assure you I have kept my oath and refrained from using any magic to heal my patients."

"I don't doubt it," Arthur assured him, clasping his shoulder again. "Thank you, Gaius. You are an honorable man."

"Thank you, sire," he bowed his head, "but, if I may, can I ask you something?"

"Of course," Arthur invited.

"If you did not believe me to be the traitor, why did you have me questioned?"

Arthur sighed. "Merlin already knows this but, I suspect Agravaine is the conspirator in our midst. We both feel that a direct confrontation with him would not be in our favor so I'm trying to play along with his suggestions in order to catch him unawares in an act of treason. I'm sorry you got caught in the middle of this, Gaius. It was not my intention to make you believe I questioned your allegiance."

Understanding lit Gaius's wise eyes and he smiled sadly. "I do not hold it against you, Arthur." He placed a hand on his forearm. "I am sorry about Agravaine."

The young king hung his head in his hands. Normally he didn't show such vulnerability but this was Gaius. He could trust him not to spread rumors of weakness. "When will the betrayals end, Gaius?" he murmured.

Gaius wrapped his arm around Arthur's slightly shaking shoulders. The king didn't even realize he was crying until a tear fell on his hand. He hastily tried to wipe it away.

"Trusting others is not a weakness, Arthur," Gaius consoled. "It is a strength."

"Then why does it hurt so much?"

"Because it involves your heart which is the central point of all emotion," Gaius answered. "But trusting in others is necessary to accomplish greatness, Arthur, for no man can accomplish his dreams alone. He needs others to help support him along the way. Do not allow the actions of a few to ruin the hopes you have. There will always be those who stand by you and even if they may be few they are the ones worth listening to. They will always have your best interest at heart, even if sometimes their actions seem to say otherwise."

Arthur nodded quietly, reeling in his emotions. Rubbing his eyes, he stood. "Thank you Gaius. Your counsel is always sound and appreciated."

"I will give it any time, Arthur," Gaius smiled.

Arthur smiled in return. "I know."

"What are you going to do about Agravaine?"

"I will continue to watch his movements," the king answered, running a hand over his face. Weariness plagued him. "He might try to do something to you, to implicate you as the traitor, but I promise that I'll do what I can to protect you."

Gaius stood and patted his shoulder. "I have all faith you will, Arthur. Thank you."

The king nodded, heading for the door. Before leaving, however, he turned back. "Gaius?"

"Yes sire?"

"Everything we've discussed…"

"Don't worry, Arthur. My lips are sealed," the physician assured.

The king's expression softened as pride and fondness cascaded into his heart. Nodding to his old friend, Arthur left the room.

* * *

 **This chapter was necessary to set the tone of the fic. I hope it didn't bore you. I promise the really good stuff is going to start next chapter. :D Leave a review if you have the time. I'd love to know what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for all of the positive feedback from last chapter, guys. You really know how to make someone's day! So, in case any of you were wondering, this is not going to be a Merthur fic. Sorry for all you merthur fans out there. However, this fic will be heavily coated in BROMANCE - so much so that it may smother some of you to death. You've been warned. :)**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or any of the dialogue or scenes that come from the show.**

* * *

02: Hero

Hours later, Arthur was just barely considering retiring for the evening when a disheveled Merlin burst into his chambers out of breath.

"Merlin! What on earth–?!"

"Arthur – Agravaine –"

"Wow, slow down, Merlin," Arthur commanded. "What about Agravaine?"

"Agravaine wanted me to give this to you," he gasped, holding out a dagger, "he asked me to sharpen it – I think to get me out of the way – but I followed him instead. Arthur, he let two strange men into the citadel."

"Where were they heading?"

"Towards the physician's chambers, I think," Merlin answered.

Reattaching his sword to his waist, Arthur ran through the castle with Merlin at his heels. The warning bell began to sound. Arthur swore under his breath. If Merlin was right about the intruders supposed destination, he had a bad feeling that Gaius was in trouble. Merlin seemed to share this same foreboding wavelength for both burst through the door to the physician's chambers and shouted Gaius's name at the same time. No one answered. There weren't any signs of a struggle but Arthur wasn't about to dismiss that all was well. At this hour Gaius should have been home. Where could they have gone? With the warning bell going off, whoever took him would try to get out of Camelot as fast as they could and the quickest way to do that would be –

"The stables! Merlin, come on!" Arthur shouted, leaving the room.

The two ran down the hall. At the nearest window, Merlin stopped.

"Arthur!" he cried frantically.

Backtracking to join him, the king peered down into the courtyard to see two men hastily making a break for the gate, one of them carrying an unconscious Gaius over his broad shoulders. So they decided to forgo the horses then. Still, by the time he and Merlin reached the courtyard and grabbed horses for themselves, Gaius and his kidnappers could be halfway through the lower town!

Swearing, Arthur turned on his heel, running flat out down the corridor. This was his uncle's doing, he was sure of it! Of course Arthur wasn't going to stick around to hear some driveling lie from the man about Gaius running away; the trail was fresh and he'd be a fool to waste the opportunity of pursuing. But he had to make sure Camelot was protected before he simply ran off into the night. Luckily it was at that moment that he quite literally ran into Leon.

"Sire!"

"Leon!" Arthur cried in surprise, steadying himself before turning to his servant. "Merlin, ready the horses!" Merlin nodded before continuing around the corner. Arthur grabbed Leon's arm. "Leon, I don't have time to explain but I need you to take charge in my absence. This may sound strange but do _not_ , under _any_ circumstances, trust my uncle."

Leon's brow furrowed in confusion. "Sire?"

"Promise me!" Arthur demanded.

Leon studied him a moment more before his face filled with resolve and he nodded. "Of course, Arthur. I'll keep Camelot safe until you return."

"Good," Arthur patted his shoulder before taking off. Leon's loyalty to follow orders without explanation was impeccable. Arthur knew that out of everyone, he would keep the kingdom safe until his return.

Practically flying down the steps, he waited impatiently for another three minutes before Merlin appeared leading the horses.

"Come _on_ , Merlin!" he snapped, running towards the anxious servant who was fumbling with the reins.

"Sorry," he apologized as the king whipped them from his hands.

Arthur glanced at him then, instantly noticing his worry. He placed a reassuring hand on Merlin's shoulder. "We'll get him back," he promised.

Merlin nodded, his lips pulled in an anxious frown.

Arthur hoisted himself into the saddle and nudged his heels into his horse's side. His steed took off with Merlin right on his tail. Whoever the two men were that Agravaine had let into the castle, they were going to regret ever aligning themselves with that traitor!

It was fairly easy to pick up their trail. The two men had traveled on foot until they reached the edge of the woods where their horses were tied. Arthur gathered they were only minutes away from catching up to them. Flicking the reins, he pushed his horse to go faster. He was grateful Merlin had the foresight to choose Ares, the fastest of all his horses, for this task. Merlin's horse, Rhith, was a tad slower but he was the kind who followed the pace of a leader. The horses' hooves pounded into the dirt as master and servant flew through the woods, Arthur keeping his eyes trained for any signs of change in the path.

They reached a point where the noise of the forest drastically disappeared and Arthur instantly pulled on the reins. Ares dug his hooves into the forest floor, coming to an immediate stop, Merlin commanding the same of Rhith.

"What is it?" Merlin asked.

Before he could answer, someone let out a war cry and Arthur was unprepared as a large man grabbed him round the torso and threw him unceremoniously from his horse.

"Arthur!" Merlin shouted as the king fell into the dirt.

Dazed, Arthur shook his head just in time to see a large sword plunging towards his midsection. With the natural grace of a warrior, Arthur rolled out of the way and regained his footing, releasing his sword from his waist and his cape from his shoulders at the same time. The bulky man could rival Percival in size as he screamed again, swinging his large sword downward. Arthur's entire arm shook as the metal clashed and he quickly activated every fighting skill he had to rapidly bring his attacker down. It took three more evasive maneuvers and strikes before his sword plunged through the man's stomach. As his foe fell to his knees, Arthur looked around to find Merlin. Relief flooded him as he found his manservant bending over the still form of Gaius propped up against a tree.

Merlin turned his gaze on him but his relief became alarm. "Arthur!" he shouted in warning.

The king, sensing someone behind him, twisted around and instinctively brought his sword forward. The blade sliced into a bald man's arm. Crying out in pain, the offender backed away as blood started seeping through his sleeve. Arthur stepped forward to finish him off but the attacker flung out his staff, pointing not at him but at Merlin.

" **Ásælan** **æt cnæpling! Áberstan** **geond bróðorlufu!"**

A blinding flash of white light flew from the staff's tip and slammed into Merlin's chest. The king watched in horror as his manservant flew backward before crumbling into the dirt.

"Merlin!" he cried.

Abandoning the fight, he ran to his friend, panic spurring his legs to reach their longest stride. Dropping to Merlin's side, he turned him over to see his face deathly pale, sweat beading on his forehead.

"What did you do to him?!" Arthur shouted, leaping to his feet and pointing his sword at the sorcerer.

"Now we shall see what kind of king you are," the man answered in a strange accent. "Sorcery can only be fought with sorcery, King Arthur. Good luck finding someone willing to help you."

And without another word, the man disappeared in a gust of wind.

"No!" Arthur cried, whirling around and dropping back down next to Merlin. He took his shoulders and shook them. "Merlin? _Merlin!_ Come on, you idiot! Wake up! _Please!"_

But Merlin remained as deathly pale and unconscious as he had before. Arthur began to panic. What had that sorcerer done to him? Gaius! Gaius would know! Rushing over to the physician, he hastily shook his shoulder.

"Gaius! Wake up!"

No response. The king was beside himself. What should he do? He was in the middle of the woods with two unresponsive men, one of them suffering from an unknown nefarious spell! He was afraid to take them back to Camelot; they might have sustained some unknown injury. Biting his lip, Arthur decided to do the only thing he could think of: make camp and wait.

Leaving Merlin and Gaius on the ground, he gathered both Ares and Rhith and secured them to a tree not far from the path in a small clearing. Returning, he hoisted Gaius into his arms and carried him over to the horses before going back for Merlin. The poor youth was shivering with fever, his body glowing with a dull blue light. Arthur swore.

His manservant was glowing.

What on earth was happening?!

Panicked, Arthur retrieved his cape and wrapped Merlin inside it before lifting him into his arms – all the while trying not to acknowledge the way his cape became illuminated from the strange phenomena currently known as his manservant. Setting Merlin down at the base of a tree, Arthur tried nudging Gaius awake again. Finally he got a response. Ancient eyes flickered open and a groan escaped the old man's lips.

"Gaius!" Arthur cried in relief, shaking him further.

"Arthur?" the physician's voice was garbled as he groggily looked around.

"Are you alright?" the king asked.

"I will be in a moment, I think," Gaius answered, rubbing his head as if he had a headache. "What happened?"

"You were kidnapped," Arthur hastily explained. "Merlin and I followed your trail. Gaius, one of the men who kidnapped you was a sorcerer. He did something to Merlin! He's glowing!" He finished, pointing frantically where Merlin lay.

"What?" Gaius yelped, sitting bolt upright, headache forgotten. His gaze fell on the man who was indeed emitting a blue hue, his entire body shivering uncontrollably. "Merlin!"

Just as the physician was about to get to his feet, the blue light intensified. Arthur had to shield his eyes from the onslaught and the horses reared in alarm, unable to bolt from their restraints. When the brightness finally dissipated both Arthur and Gaius rushed to where Merlin lay. It didn't even register to Arthur that there seemed to be more material than body as he fell down at Merlin's side.

"Merlin!" he cried but then gasped, his eyes widening uncomprehendingly. _"Merlin?"_ he croaked.

Nestled amidst the folds of Camelot crimson, his full head of black hair short and tussled over a pair of large ears and an ashen face, was a little boy of about five years old. His breathing was labored, his eyes scrunched tightly shut, while a grimace pulled at his small lips. Sweat fell off his brow. Wearing a shirt that was far too large for him – _Merlin's_ shirt – and a red neckerchief that covered most of his chest – _Merlin's_ neckerchief – the boy shifted uncomfortably, his little hands gripping the shirt's fabric as he moaned.

"He has a fever," Gaius muttered. "Quickly, Arthur, do you have water?"

Completely dazed, the king looked up stupidly. "What?"

"Water!" Gaius repeated. "We need to get his fever down!"

"Oh, right, water," Arthur muttered, standing up and rushing over to Ares. Grabbing a waterskin, he returned and handed it over to the physician with trembling hands.

Gaius had already removed the red neckerchief and was using it to wipe away the sweat from the little boy's form. Halting only to dampen the cloth, the physician continued to work. Arthur plopped down on the boy's opposite side, staring with wide, disbelieving eyes.

It wasn't possible. It couldn't be. But how could it not? Those ears were a dead give away!

"Sorcery," Arthur whispered numbly.

"Indeed, sire," Gaius muttered as he wrapped the child back into Arthur's cape and rested the wet cloth over the boy's forehead.

"Gaius… will he…?"

"I've done what I can. The fever is not severe. Sleep is probably the best thing for him at this point."

Arthur ran a shaky hand through his hair. "Have you ever seen this before?" he whispered.

"Age altering spells?" Gaius asked. Arthur nodded. "I have seen many spells where one changes their age to be _older_ but I personally have never seen a man be reduced to the tender years of a child."

"Can't you do something?" Arthur asked desperately.

Gaius's whole body sagged and with it, Arthur's hope. "I'm sorry, sire," he confessed, "but this is beyond my power to fix. The enchantment he is under is a powerful one. It would take a sorcerer of equal or greater skill than the one who placed it to remove it and even then they would have to know the exact spell that was used."

Arthur felt like he was falling into a pit of despair. "Before the sorcerer left, he taunted me."

"What did he say?"

Arthur told him what happened. Gaius's frown was prominent, his gaze fixed on Merlin with worry. "I fear that the only way to fix this is to seek out a sorcerer, Sire."

"I know but -though it pains me to admit this- that sorcerer was right. Who would help us?"

What he hadn't said was: 'who would help _me?'_ He was the son of Uther Pendragon, the man responsible for the Purge and the death of hundreds of magic practitioners. Arthur couldn't deny that in some cases magic could have been beneficial in the previous hardships they faced. It certainly would be now! But who would be daft enough to offer assistance to a king who frowned upon their craft? Arthur couldn't think of anyone…

Wait.

Maybe there _was_ someone!

"The old man!" he cried. "The one who tried to heal my father. He would help us!"

Gaius did not share his enthusiasm. "I don't believe we can call on him for aid this time, Arthur."

Arthur paled, assuming the worst. "You don't mean… he didn't… _die_ , did he?"

Gaius didn't meet his gaze. "I don't know for certain," he muttered, "I've lost contact with him. All I know is you probably won't be able to find him anywhere near Camelot now, not after what happened the last time he tried to help."

Arthur deflated miserably. "But I don't know of any other sorcerers willing to come to our aid," he cried.

"You are willing to seek out magic to help Merlin?" Gaius hesitantly questioned. "Even after your negative experiences with it in the past?"

Arthur flinched a little as pain pricked his heart like multiple jabs from a dagger into the skin. "Recent events have had me questioning whether all magic is bad," he whispered. Catching the old physician's astonished gaze, Arthur boldly declared, "I will do whatever it takes to restore Merlin, Gaius, even if I have to grovel before every sorcerer in the five kingdoms." He placed a hand over the boy's small arm. "I can't lose him," he finished, his heart breaking, "not again."

Gaius placed a comforting hand on Arthur's shoulder. "He isn't gone, Arthur."

"But he's a child, Gaius!" the king argued. "A child can't –"

He couldn't get the words out; they seemed to be lodged in his throat. His eyes squeezed shut to hide the burning from the physician's gaze, his hands clenched into fists.

 _A child can't advise me,_ he silently lamented. _A child can't banter with me. A child won't be able to accompany me on rescue missions, help me sit through boring council meetings, allow me to use him as a practice dummy, or perform the duties required of my manservant. Child Merlin is not capable of being_ my _Merlin; the Merlin that I_ need.

"This has to be fixed," he shakily whispered. "It _has_ to be."

The physician seemed to understand. Patting Arthur's shoulder, he consoled, "We'll find a way, Arthur. We always do."

[][][]

The king hadn't realized he'd fallen asleep until he was jerked awake by the sounds of rustling. Grabbing the hilt of his sword, Arthur flung his eyes opened. A small yelp resounded to his left and Arthur turned just in time to see a tiny form rushing to hide behind the nearest tree. Gaius was still sound asleep next to the now empty bundle of Arthur's cloak. Arthur slowly rose to his feet and sheathed his sword just as a small head peeked around the tree trunk, two large blue eyes staring at Arthur with something akin to fascination.

Arthur didn't know exactly what to say so he said the first thing that popped into his head. "I can see you hiding behind that tree, you know."

There was a little gasp and the tiny eyes disappeared behind the tree's trunk. Arthur's eyebrow rose. Was this shy little boy really his manservant?

"Why don't you come here," he coaxed. "I won't hurt you."

After a moment of indecision, there was a rustling as the little boy slowly came into view. He looked utterly ridiculous in the oversized blue shirt, the sleeves trailing across the ground and the large neckline hanging off one small shoulder. Merlin's large blue eyes were full of innocence, the facets filled with nothing but curiosity and awe as they took in the king from top to bottom. Arthur waved him to come closer and Merlin took another step before tripping on the overly large shirt and falling flat on his face.

"Ouch!" the boy whimpered, sprawled out in the dirt as he lifted his now red face. His eyes were clouded with tears but the youth's stubbornness refused to let them fall. Sniffling, he scurried back onto his feet and brushed himself off before taking another tentative step closer to where the king stood.

Arthur had to fight not to laugh over the display of clumsiness. "Hello," he said when he realized Merlin was still staring at him with his eyes as wide as dinner plates.

"Who are you?" Merlin asked and though his voice was younger, it was unmistakable.

The question drove a nail through Arthur's heart as his hope obliterated concerning Merlin's mind being unaffected by the change of age. It was painful, Merlin not recognizing him. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Arthur tried to remain friendly as he got down on one knee to be at eye level with his little manservant.

"My name is Arthur," he said. "Arthur Pendragon."

Merlin's eyes widened as excitement stole over him. Grabbing Arthur's hand, Merlin shook it vigorously with both of his. "My name is Merlin!" he cried, enthusiastically. "I'm five. I can't believe I finally get to know your name!"

Arthur blinked in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Merlin said matter-of-factly, "I always wake up before I get to ask you who you are but now I'm awake and you're still here! So I finally got to ask you what your name is! I can't tell you how long I've wanted to talk to you! But you're always so busy fighting the bad guys that I don't get a chance to."

Arthur was beyond bemused now. What on earth was Merlin talking about? "I'm afraid I'm confused," he admitted.

The boy frowned. "Wait, I didn't make you real, did I? I've tried to before but all I'm able to do is make images of you in fire flecks – until mommy catches me. Then I have to stop."

"What _are_ you going on about, Merlin?" Arthur asked, annoyed. He regretted his harsh tone immediately because Merlin looked genuinely frightened as he clasped his hands over his mouth.

"I shouldn't have said that," he muttered through his fingers. "Mommy told me I can't talk about it. It's a secret. Our secret. Nobody else can know." Then he surprised Arthur by abruptly changing the subject. "Are you going to disappear or are you going to stay?"

Arthur, though startled as well as lost as to how to handle this situation, continued to flounder on as he replied, "I'm not going anywhere without you, Merlin."

And then, to his complete astonishment, the little boy ran into his chest, his thin arms latching around his torso as far as they could reach. It was only then that Arthur realized Merlin was trembling. The king slightly panicked. He had never been around children before; not on a personal level such as this. He didn't really know what to do and the fact that this was _Merlin_ – currently _hugging_ him! – only added to his discomfort.

But the boy was seeking comfort and he was obviously frightened. Arthur remembered a time when he was little and scared. He had been around Merlin's current age and a horrible thunderstorm had descended upon the castle. He'd ended up running to his father's chambers in the middle of the night. Instead of merely dismissing him like he most often would, Uther had allowed him to stay. He'd even wrapped his arms around him and held him close the whole night. It was the safest Arthur had ever felt.

Perhaps he should try the same with Merlin?

Gathering the boy into his arms, Arthur hugged him tight and stood up. Merlin curled his legs around his torso to secure himself before burrowing his head further against the king's neck.

"Don't leave me alone," he muttered, his tiny voice dripping with fear.

"I won't," Arthur promised, rubbing Merlin's back unconsciously.

"Why am I in the middle of a forest?" Merlin asked finally brave enough to pull a little out of the embrace. "Normally I wake up back home after you're done fighting the bad men."

Arthur frowned slightly as he set Merlin down on the ground before sitting in front of him. "Merlin, what do you mean about 'fighting the bad men'?"

Merlin's whole form shook as he answered, "I keep having nightmares where bad men in red capes are chasing me. I'm always in the woods. Then, right before they're about to hurt me and take me away to the Dragon's castle, you show up and fight them off with your sword. They run away and when you look at me, I wake up. That's why I'm so confused. I've never been able to talk to you before. Are you sure I didn't bring you to life?"

Arthur stared. "You dream about me?"

It was the only thing he was able to process. Merlin dreamt about him and apparently it was a recurring event. Ignoring how uncomfortable this made him feel, the king instead wondered if it was possible that this had actually happened; that Merlin, as a five year old, had dreamt of him. Or was this all induced because of the spell? Was it Merlin's subconscious mind filtering all the times he'd rescued him from bandits into some kind of 'dream'?

"I dream about you every night," Merlin declared, interrupting Arthur's inner musings. "You always save me, Arthur. Wow, I'm so glad I know your name now! I can't wait to tell mommy. Hey, do you know where she is?"

Arthur blinked. "What? Oh – um, she's in Ealdor."

Merlin's small brow furrowed as he looked around. "But… I don't recognize these woods. Where are we?"

"About half a day's ride from Camelot," Arthur answered.

Merlin's entire face paled and his breathing quickened. "W-Why are we here, Arthur?" he asked as his small eyes darted back and forth and his frame began to tremble. "Did the bad men try to take me to the Dragon's castle? Is that why you're here? Did you stop them? Are you going to take me home now?"

"Wow, Merlin, slow down," Arthur consoled, taking the little boy's hands to steady his frantic movements. "Nobody is trying to take you to some castle owned by a dragon."

"Then why are we so close to his castle?" Merlin wailed.

It finally clicked. "The Dragon's castle is Camelot?"

Merlin nodded, fear naked in his eyes.

"I don't understand. Why would you be afraid to go to Camelot?"

"Because it's a horrible place!" Merlin cried, visibly shaking. "Big knights come and take you away to the Dragon King and he kills you with fire! And I know what kill means because I saw some of the other boys hurt a cat with rocks until it stopped moving. Then they told the village leader that I killed it. I didn't know what that meant until mommy told me it's when you don't come back. And the Dragon King takes people away and _they don't come back!_ I don't want to go to the Dragon's castle! The Dragon King will kill me!"

Hysterical, the boy latched onto him again and cried uncontrollably into Arthur's shoulder. Arthur took him in his arms once more and tried to sooth him. "Merlin, there's no reason to be scared. It's alright."

Arthur's mind reeled. He wasn't an idiot. He could put two and two together. What he couldn't figure out was why Merlin believed Camelot knights would drag him away so he could die on a pyre. His father must have been the Dragon King; more than likely because of his last name Pen _dragon_. Even to children his treatment towards sorcerers was known. But why was Merlin afraid? It wasn't as if he were a sorcerer!

...

… No…

It was _unthinkable…_

There was _no way_ that _Merlin_ was a…!

No, he was just being stupid.

But he had to ask.

"Merlin, why do you think the Dragon King will hurt you?" Arthur asked hesitantly.

"Because mommy said he would and mommy doesn't lie," Merlin answered, wiping his eyes.

Why on earth would Hunith tell her son that the king of Camelot was going to take him away and kill him? Hunith didn't strike him as the type of mother capable of terrifying her own child. So, logically, the only reason she would tell Merlin something so horrifying would have been to protect… him…

No.

It couldn't be.

Not Merlin.

"Merlin," Arthur's voice shook. He couldn't believe what he was about to ask. Clearing away the lump in his throat, he forced the question past his lips. "Are you a sorcerer?"

The little boy paled, his eyes widening in fear. His entire form began to shake like a leaf and his small hands, though hidden beneath the sleeves, bundled into the fabric and clung to it like a lifeline. He adamantly shook his head, his eyes on the ground.

"Lock it. Keep it. Secret. Secret."

The little mantra was accompanied by hand gestures which, though hidden beneath large sleeves, were easy to figure out. Merlin clasped his hands together and lifted what Arthur assumed to be one finger – judging by the taut fabric – to his lips. It was obviously something he had been taught from a very young age and Arthur, hearing the words, couldn't help but feel something akin to pity towards the small child at his feet. But then he remembered just who this child was and what he'd technically just revealed.

 _Merlin_ _was a_ _sorcerer?!_

" _Show me!"_ he demanded, his tone hardening, his emotions thrown in a chaotic storm.

Merlin's blue eyes widened in horror. "S-Show you what, Arthur?"

Arthur tried to rein in what he was feeling. This was a child not an adult. This little Merlin didn't know that the older Merlin had been betraying him for _years!_ He had to control his temper – dare he say it – for Merlin's sake. But not the older Merlin. No, _this_ Merlin. _Child_ Merlin. Poor, defenseless, confused, five year old Merlin who believed he was going to burn on a pyre. Taking a deep breath, Arthur schooled his features into a look of what he hoped was nothing but curiosity. It was surprisingly easy to do, since -though he'd never admit it- he _was_ somewhat curious.

"I want to see your secret, Merlin."

Merlin shook his head. "I'm not supposed to show it to anyone, Arthur, not even Will! Mommy said so!"

" _Mer_ lin!"

The boy gasped and took a step back. Arthur berated himself. _Come on, Arthur, relax. He won't show you if you don't relax._

Trying again, he said in a gentler tone, "Please, Merlin, will you show me?"

Merlin glanced up at him worriedly. "Mommy said not to."

"I promise you that the Dragon King won't hurt you," Arthur coaxed. "I'm your protector, right?"

Merlin slowly nodded. "Yeah."

"Then you can trust me."

Merlin still seemed apprehensive but with one last glance at Arthur he nodded again. "Okay."

Arthur inhaled a sharp breath, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. What was Merlin going to do? Turn him into a toad? Fling him back into a tree? Enchant him to do his bidding? What had Arthur been thinking, asking a sorcerer to show him magic?! His hand instinctively lowered to the handle of his sword. Even if Merlin was a mere child, he would defend himself if needed. Besides, Merlin was already a traitor for lying to him!

Traitor.

Merlin was a traitor.

Arthur's whole world was falling apart and he didn't even know how to handle it!

The little boy, completely oblivious to the king's inner struggle, clasped his hands together and brought them up to his lips. Taking a deep breath, he blew into them and his eyes changed from their unique blue to profound gold. Arthur froze, his eyes widening from the abrupt change. It was definitely magic but there hadn't been an incantation. Was that possible? Arthur didn't know a lot about magic but even he was sure that spells had to be uttered. So why had Merlin's eyes lit up after he merely blew air into his hands?

Entirely unaware of Arthur's befuddlement, Merlin exposed his palms and giggled as a blue butterfly fluttered into the air, dancing around his head before flying off into the forest.

"Bye!" he called to it, waving his little hand. Sighing, he turned back to Arthur and said, "They always do that. Arthur? Are you okay?"

Arthur's jaw was on the ground. Merlin had magic. _His bumbling, clumsy, idiotic manservant had magic!_ It was one thing to hear the confession but another to actually see it. And he'd conjured a butterfly. Without a word! Wait. Merlin had made a butterfly…

A… butterfly…

Of all the things Merlin could show him with magic, he'd made a _butterfly?_

Hysterical laugher escaped his lips and the king sprawled backward, relief flooding through his once taut limbs. "Only _you, Mer_ lin!" he chortled.

"W-Why are you laughing?" Merlin wondered, confused.

"A butterfly!" Arthur laughed. "Of all things! You really are such a _girl_ , _Mer_ lin!"

The boy was so taken aback by this reaction that he went on the defensive. Crossing his arms, his cheeks reddened in embarrassment and he snapped, "Butterflies aren't girly, Arthur! They're pretty!"

"Yes and girls like pretty things," the king said, poking Merlin's nose.

The boy frowned. "I am _not_ a girl!" And to prove himself, his eyes flashed again and an orb of blue light appeared in his palm. "See? I don't just make girly things!"

Arthur's laughter died instantly as he stared at the blue sphere. Strong emotions emitted from it, each one slamming into Arthur as he recalled a memory from long ago...

He had been in darkness, clinging desperately to a ledge as monstrous spiders scurried up the wall below him. He thought he was going to die when an orb – _the same one currently in Merlin's hand_ – appeared, giving not only light but comfort and reassurance to the then terrified prince. With that light he was able to get to safety. Overcome, Arthur found himself reaching forward to touch it.

Merlin, excited to share, leaned forward and placed the orb in his outstretched hand. Powerful feelings of loyalty, devotion, love, reassurance, and strength pulsated from the ball. Arthur gasped, his entire body feeling as if it were encased in warmth. His heart quickened and tears unbidden pooled in his eyes. These feelings; he knew them. They felt… they felt like Merlin.

The king looked up at his little manservant and found him fidgeting. "Do you… do you like it?" he asked nervously.

Still overcome, Arthur released the ball and grabbed Merlin into a fierce hug. Merlin yelped in surprise.

"You idiot," Arthur whispered, "it was you."

Merlin pulled away, puzzled. "What are you talking about, Arthur?"

The king hastily wiped his eyes. "N-Nothing."

Merlin had protected him all those years ago. Merlin had magic. Suddenly a lot of odd things started making sense: all those lucky breaks, all the times they were able to thwart magical threats, Merlin barely receiving a scratch from bandit attacks, Merlin himself! Arthur wanted so badly to question the man, to learn exactly who he really was and what else he'd done. But Merlin was a child right now. Arthur inwardly groaned. He had to fix this! He had to know!

"Why are you crying?" Merlin wondered as Arthur sniffled.

"I'm _not_ crying, Merlin."

The little boy frowned. "Yes you are."

Desperate to get away from 'feelings', Arthur locked Merlin's head under one arm and started lightly rubbing the top of his head with his knuckles.

"Ow! Arthur!" Merlin protested, wiggling back and forth futilely in the king's strong grip. "Stop it!"

"Still think I'm crying?" he demanded, smirking heavily from Merlin's obvious discomfort.

"N-No!" Merlin relented.

"What? I didn't hear you!" Arthur laughed.

It was to this scene that Gaius finally decided to grace them with his presence. The old physician sat up, holding his head as if he still had a headache, his eyes taking in the strange scene and gasping audibly as Merlin's eyes flashed gold and he suddenly disappeared from Arthur's grip.

"Sire!" Gaius exclaimed, leaping to his feet at the same time as the king.

Arthur hardly noticed his panicked expression as he furrowed his brow. Though astonished that the boy had suddenly vanished, Arthur was more concerned as to where he'd ended up. Knowing Merlin, he wouldn't be surprised if he'd magicked himself into a tree or a dangerous creature's den. "Merlin?" he called, beginning to worry at such a thought.

A light giggle came from behind a nearby bush and the king, with excellent hunting skills, pinpointed Merlin's hiding place instantly. Relief flooded through him. Though hidden quite well, Merlin's little feet were just visible through the bush's roots. Deciding to humor the boy, Arthur scratched his head and pretended to be confused.

"Now, where on earth did he go?"

Wandering away from the bush, he heard Merlin giggle again and a smile crept up his face. He peered behind a tree.

"Nope, not there," he said, turning around and trying another tree. "Hmmm, not here either."

Merlin's quiet laughter grew as Arthur decided to flip over a large rock. "Drat! I was _sure_ he'd be under there." Then, quick as lightning, he rushed over to the bush and snatched Merlin into his arms before the boy even knew he'd moved. "Gotcha!" he cried.

Merlin let out a peel of laughter as he flung his arms around Arthur's neck. "You found me!"

"Yes I did," Arthur chuckled before he added seriously, "but I don't ever want you to run off like that with magic again, Merlin. I might not be able to find you next time and that would be bad."

Merlin grew solemn as he nodded. "Okay. Sorry Arthur."

It was then that Arthur noticed Gaius. The old man was standing there with his mouth open, his eyes bulging comically, and his finger pointing at the king in disbelief. It was then that Arthur realized he'd just played hide and seek with his manservant. The king of Camelot… playing a children's game… with Merlin…

Face flushing with embarrassment, he quickly set Merlin down and cleared his throat. "Gaius," he greeted formally.

The physician shook his head and tried to regain some of his own dignity. "Sire," he returned.

"Gaius!" Merlin cried, rushing up to the old man. He tripped again on the large shirt but he was close enough that his body fell into the physician's legs instead of the dirt. Merlin happily hugged him. "I'm sorry I didn't recognize you before," Merlin said, staring up at him with a huge grin. "You look different than when I last saw you. You came to see mommy and I last year, remember?"

Gaius shared a look with Arthur before bending down to be at Merlin's eye level. "I remember," he said, playing along. "How old were you then?"

"I was four. Now I'm five," Merlin stated, holding out his hand with all fingers raised. "Mommy says I'm all grown up now."

"And she's quite right," Gaius chuckled, ruffling Merlin's hair. But then he sobered as he turned his attentions to the king. Arthur noticed the protective hand he placed on Merlin's shoulder.

"Gaius, I'm not going to do anything," Arthur assured.

"But… his magic…"

"It's alright," Arthur assured. "I have many questions, but, given the circumstances…"

Gaius nodded. "I'll answer what I can, Sire, but there are some things only he can clarify."

Arthur stared at Merlin who was looking between the two men, confused. "It's alright, Merlin," he assured. "Gaius and I are friends."

"You know each other?" Merlin wondered.

Arthur chuckled. "Yes. You see, Gaius is my Court Physician."

Merlin's eyebrows drew together. "But… mommy said Gaius had to work for the Dragon King in order to keep us safe. That would mean…" He gazed up at Arthur in new found terror. "You're…?!"

"I'm the king, Merlin," Arthur admitted before hastily adding, "but I'm not going to hurt you! My father was the Dragon King. I'm different."

Merlin's terrified gaze relaxed a little as he studied Arthur carefully. "I showed you my secret," he muttered, "and you didn't hurt me."

Arthur nodded. "And I won't tell anyone else, Merlin. Your secret is safe with me."

Merlin recited, "Lock it. Keep it. Secret. Secret."

"That's right," Arthur encouraged. "People can't know that you have magic when we get back to Camelot."

"Camelot!" Merlin cried, his fear suddenly returning. "Why are we going there?!"

"Because…" Arthur floundered. He looked to Gaius for help.

The physician used some quick thinking and came up with a reasonable answer. "Because your mother had to go visit a sick friend and asked us to take care of you until she returns."

"Oh…" Merlin muttered his brow furrowed. "But why didn't she just have me stay with Will in the village? Why have you come and why are you taking me to the Dragon's Castle?"

"It's Camelot, Merlin," Arthur gently corrected.

"And your mother thought it would be best to stay with me because I'm your great uncle and I can look after you better than anyone else," Gaius finished.

Arthur's eyebrows furrowed. "You're Merlin's uncle? Truly?"

Gaius smiled. "Yes, Sire. Hunith's mother was my sister."

"But… I didn't know that," Arthur muttered.

Why did that revelation hurt? Perhaps because it was something else he didn't know. Merlin had been in Camelot for almost a decade and not once had Arthur made the connection that he was Gaius's great nephew. What else had he missed?

"It wasn't relevant to bring it up before," Gaius said kindly. "My love for the boy wouldn't have changed, related or not. But, sire, we do have a problem."

"What?" Arthur wondered; besides the obvious with Merlin being a child.

"There may be others in Camelot who might notice something they shouldn't," he hinted, staring pointedly down at the small boy.

Arthur frowned. "Oh… right…"

What to do? There was no way he could simply stroll back into Camelot with a child that looked like his manservant. That would raise too many questions and the last thing he needed was people suspecting magic and shunning Merlin for having a spell cast on him. The councilmen – not to mention his traitorous uncle! – would put up the greatest fight, maybe even suggesting banishing Merlin under the grounds of being 'tainted by a sorcerer'. No, this needed to be kept between as few people as possible. But how?

Arthur could always tell the others that Merlin went home to visit his mother. That would be believable. It had been a while since he'd last seen her. But how could he explain the little Merlin wandering around? Maybe a disguise? But what? And how could he get Merlin to play along?

An idea suddenly struck him and the king decided to wing it.

"Merlin?"

"Yeah Arthur?"

"I have a problem."

Merlin's little eyebrows scrunched together. "Can I help?"

"Oh I think you can," Arthur answered, lowering down on one knee again. "You see, I'm a king and kings are supposed to have Court Sorcerers. Unfortunately, I don't have one."

Merlin's eyes grew as large as the full moon. "And you want me to be it?" he asked.

Arthur sized him up. "I don't know… it's a big responsibility."

"I can do it!" Merlin said, puffing out his chest and putting his hands on his hips. "I'm five now. That means I'm all grown up."

Arthur and Gaius shared an amused glance before the king turned back to Merlin. "Well then, you'd have to follow my rules."

Merlin folded his arms and appeared rather confident. "I think I can handle it, Arthur."

It was such a typical Merlin response that the king couldn't help chuckling. "Alright, you've got the job."

"Yes!" Merlin cried excitedly, jumping into the air. But then he froze and asked sheepishly, "Um, exactly what does a Court Sorcerer have to do?"

"It's really simple, Merlin," Arthur said, thinking fast. "Rule number one: you have to take on a secret identity."

"Secret identity?" Merlin repeated. "Why?"

"Because the job of Court Sorcerer is a secret," Arthur answered while Gaius nodded for emphasis. "So you can never let anyone know your real name – and, um, would it be possible for you to, uh, change your hair color? With magic?"

"My hair color?" Merlin asked, running a tiny hand through his ebony locks.

"Yes," said Arthur. "Secret identities have to include a change in appearance and name."

Merlin didn't look at all happy about that but what else could Arthur do? He couldn't exactly run around with a five year old Merlin! Sorcery would slip past every tongue the second they saw the boy!

"Okay," Merlin mumbled and with a flash of his eyes, his hair changed from jet black to honey blonde. When he looked up, his eyes stood out like a beacon. It was a little disorienting to be honest but it was enough of a change that Merlin didn't exactly look like, well, _Merlin,_ and that was the effect Arthur was going for.

"So what's my name?" the little blonde asked miserably.

Arthur thought a minute. "Arlin," he answered with a definitive nod.

"Arlin?" Merlin repeated his now blonde eyebrows furrowing. "Wait, did you just combine our names?"

"… No…"

"Yes you did!" the little boy teased.

"I didn't."

Merlin's grin was wide. "You're not very creative, are you?"

"Shut up, Merlin."

Hurt flared across the little boy's face. "Sorry," he apologized.

Arthur, realizing his mistake, tried to explain. "No, I mean, I don't really _want_ you to shut up. I'm not angry or anything."

"You're not?" Merlin wondered, confused.

"No. I tell you to shut up because… well… because you're right and I just don't want to admit you are," Arthur grumbled. Did he really just have to confess that?

Understanding lit Merlin's eyes and his smile widened. "So you're not really creative?"

Arthur groaned. He did not need a five year old critiquing his talents or lack thereof! "Let's move on to the other rules of Court Sorcerer, shall we?"

"Alright," Merlin snickered.

"Shut up," Arthur muttered before continuing in a louder voice, "right, rule number two: under no circumstances are you to ever tell anyone that you have magic unless I say it's alright."

"Got it."

"Rule number three –"

"There seems to be a lot of rules," Merlin interrupted.

Arthur frowned, exasperated. "Merlin, how old are you?"

"Five?"

"I thought five year olds were all grown up?"

"They are! I am!"

"Then you should know that grownups are capable of having many secrets," Arthur reasoned matter-of-factly.

"Oooh! Okay," Merlin said, nodding in understanding. "What are _your_ secrets?"

Arthur started. "Well, um," – _think, Arthur, think!_ – "if I told you they would no longer be a secret."

Yes! That was a good reason. He didn't need to be divulging any of his secrets to a five year old – especially ones that he wouldn't currently understand. Now he just had to hope that Merlin would take the bait.

Merlin's little shoulders sank. "I guess you're right. Secrets are special after all. At least, that's what mommy says."

Arthur inwardly sighed in relief. "She's right, they are."

Gaius cleared his throat. "The rules?" he prompted.

"Right! Rules," Merlin repeated, looking expectantly at Arthur.

The king glanced at Gaius gratefully before continuing," Let's see… rule number three, yes. Don't use magic in front of anyone unless I give you permission to do so."

"Okay," Merlin sighed, unhappily, "because being a Court Sorcerer is secret I guess my magic has to be secret too?"

"That's right," Arthur said, nodding, grateful that Merlin was keeping up. "Now, rule number four: you are not to wander off alone. EVER."

"Ever?" Merlin asked, positively wilting. "But, mommy let's me wander off to play all the time!"

"Ealdor is very different from Camelot, Merlin," Gaius explained. "Arthur and I don't want you to get lost."

The little boy sighed as he kicked the dirt with his bare feet. "Being Court Sorcerer is very complicated."

Arthur bit his lip. In order for this to work Merlin needed to be one hundred percent committed. If not, his secret might be discovered and then the Council just might force Arthur to get rid of him!

Arthur reached forward and took Merlin's tiny shoulder, shaking it gently. "It's a lot of responsibility," he admitted, "but I don't want anyone else to be my Court Sorcerer, Merlin. I know you can do the job perfectly. There are only a few other rules."

A steely resolve came into those blue eyes and Merlin's shoulders straightened. "If you believe in me, Arthur, then I know I can do it!" he said confidently. "What are they?"

Arthur beamed, sighing inwardly in relief. "This goes with rule number four," he said. "The Court Sorcerer is very special so he gets his own Secret Protectors."

Merlin's eyes widened. "You mean like you?"

"Yes," the king chuckled, "like me. But you can't tell anyone that they're your Secret Protectors. You'll call them the Knights of the Round Table."

"Knights of the Round Table," Merlin repeated. But then he filled with panic. "Knights?! But, Arthur, knights are bad guys! They take you away to the Dragon King!"

"Knights are not bad, Merlin," Arthur consoled, "especially the ones who will be your Secret Protectors. Remember, I'm the king and the knights work for me. I won't let anyone hurt you and neither will they."

Merlin shifted nervously, biting his lip. "Okay… but… will my Secret Protectors know about my magic?"

Arthur looked to Gaius. The old physician shrugged. "I think it would be impossible for them to perform their duties if they didn't."

The king agreed. It would be a lot harder to keep this from the knights. Out of everyone –besides Guinevere, whom he also planned to tell – they would be most concerned about Merlin's wareabouts and the first to put two and two together about who 'Arlin' really was. That, and Arthur didn't think he could handle Merlin on his own. It was still hard for him to believe that this was even happening at all. At least he had Gaius's support in his plan.

"Is there anything else?" asked Merlin, interrupting Arthur's thoughts again.

"Just one," Arthur answered. "If anyone asks you what happened to your parents, you're to tell them that you don't have any and that you are the king's ward."

Merlin looked positively mortified. "But that's not true!"

"Merlin, in order to protect your mother, she has to remain a secret," said Gaius in a placating tone.

This was the part Arthur had been dreading. "Merlin," he said, "this is really important. For now, magic isn't something people use in Camelot."

"Because it's a secret?" Merlin guessed, his lips pulled into a heavy frown.

"Yes, because it's a secret," Arthur repeated resolutely. "And those who have to keep secrets are protecting other people. If that secret is exposed, then everyone involved will be in danger of getting hurt."

"I think I understand," Merlin muttered, his brow scrunched up. "I don't want to hurt anyone, Arthur. I won't tell them about mommy."

Arthur gave him a hug. "I know it's hard," he muttered, rubbing the back of Merlin's head, "but it's necessary."

"I know," Merlin sniffled, "but… Arthur?"

"Yes Merlin?"

"What's a king's ward?"

"Oh… um…" Arthur began blushing. "Well… it's when a king takes in someone to take care of them; like a parent or a guardian."

"So... you'll be like my daddy?" Merlin wondered.

Arthur started. "More like your older brother," he quickly corrected. The thought of being Merlin's father figure was too weird for him to even think about. He was pleased to see Merlin wasn't upset by his alteration.

"I've always wanted an older brother!" he cried, his eyes shining.

Arthur chuckled weakly. "Well, now you'll have one."

Merlin hugged him again. "Thank you Arthur."

Overcome and feeling beside himself as to what to do, the king cleared his throat and gently pried Merlin from his chest. All of this open affection was catching up to him, making him very uncomfortable. Standing, he brushed the few twigs and leaves from his knees before putting his hands on his hips.

"Right, Merlin, before we head back to Camelot let's go over the rules one more time."

"Okay," Merlin agreed. "One: secret identity."

"Which is?"

"My name is Arlin," Merlin recited.

"Very good," Arthur praised.

"Rule number two: don't tell anyone about my magic unless Arthur says it's okay," Merlin muttered unhappily.

"Rule number three?" Gaius prompted.

"Don't use magic unless Arthur tells me to." The boy wilted gloomily. "Number four, don't wander off alone; always be with my Secret Protectors or the Knights of the Round Table."

"And the last?" Arthur pressed.

Merlin sighed. "I don't have any parents. I'm the king's ward."

"Very good," said Arthur, patting his shoulder.

Merlin's crestfallen expression hurt his heart but Arthur tried not to let it bother him too much. One day the young sorcerer would understand why the rules were necessary. The king shook his head. The lengths he was going in order to protect Merlin were exhausting. If he didn't need to have a manservant he wouldn't have bothered.

Oh, who was he kidding? He was doing it because he needed Merlin in his life, even if he was currently five years old. Not that he would ever tell anyone that!

"We'd best be on our way, sire," said Gaius. "We don't want the knights or councilmen to worry where you've gone."

"Of course," Arthur agreed. "Let's go Merlin."

"That's not my name," Merlin mumbled, his eyes downcast.

Another pang of regret laced through the young king as he studied the dejected five year old. Sighing, Arthur walked over to Merlin and scooped him unexpectedly into his arms. Resting him on his hip, he looked down at the little blonde and smiled sadly at him.

"You'll always be Merlin to me," he comforted. "I'll only call you Arlin when we're around people who can't know you're my Court Sorcerer. Okay?"

Merlin's countenance changed instantly. "Okay," he smiled. "It'll be our secret. You know, this might be fun!"

Arthur ruffled his hair before placing him in Ares' saddle and climbing up himself. Gaius mounted Rhith and the two turned their steeds back towards Camelot. Merlin complained until Arthur relented in letting him 'help' with the reins; his little hands rested over Arthur's, holding the leather in his tiny fists. After a short distance, Merlin's grip slackened and his little blonde head fell against Arthur's chest, slumber claiming him.

Seeing that the small boy wasn't likely to wake anytime soon, Arthur sighed, "Gaius, this is…" He paused. He didn't have the words.

Now that Merlin was asleep the reality of the situation was crashing down and he felt like he couldn't breathe properly. Merlin had magic. Merlin was a sorcerer. Merlin had been cursed to be a five year old. And Arthur had just taken him in as his ward!

The king's mind reeled along with his emotions. He was angry – no – _livid_ that Merlin had hid something like this from him. It wasn't necessarily the magic that angered Arthur. It was the lies. Hadn't he experienced enough treachery to last him a lifetime?! What hurt the most was that never in his life would Arthur have thought Merlin capable of betraying him. Merlin had been his one constant source of trust but now… now it had been slashed into ribbons. Arthur wanted to scream!

Just how long had Merlin been practicing magic? He clearly had been practicing at a young age seeing how vigilant Hunith had been teaching him not to divulge his secret to anyone. But why would she encourage her son to practice magic if she knew how dangerous it was?

"Arthur? I know that this has been a shocking ordeal," Gaius said, interrupting his thoughts, "but you must understand–"

"You knew, didn't you?" Arthur accused, his hurt causing him to lash out at the old man. Gaius hung his head in confirmation. Arthur snarled. "I should have known! You've been harboring a sorcerer all this time!"

Gaius then surprised him by snapping back, "And I would do so again if it were required of me."

Arthur's mouth dropped open. "Your words borderline that of treason, Gaius," he warned.

"Arthur, do you have any idea exactly what that boy in your arms has had to sacrifice?" Gaius demanded. "He has been through more than most men my age – has seen and experienced more heartache than perhaps even I know – and he's done it all for _you!"_

"Why?! Why would a _sorcerer_ go to such great lengths for a man who hates magic?" Arthur shouted. Merlin stirred a little and Arthur, glowering, reluctantly lowered his voice, "Why would he do something like that?"

"I don't feel it is my place to tell you everything, Arthur," Gaius muttered, his frown deep, "but I can tell you some. The poets speak of a time when the five kingdoms will unite under the rule of the Once and Future King. Emrys, the most powerful sorcerer to ever live, is the protector and advisor to the Once and Future King – the other half of his coin. Together, the two would establish Albion. You, Arthur, are that king and Merlin, he is Emrys."

Arthur's eyes widened. "Merlin?" he questioned in disbelief, "the most powerful sorcerer to ever live?"

"Indeed," Gaius replied.

If his reply hadn't been given in all seriousness Arthur would have laughed. How could he not? Merlin -his bumbling, useless excuse for a manservant- the most powerful sorcerer to ever live? It was ludicrous! Insane!

"Wait," Arthur muttered, "Once and Future King…?"

He recognized that title. Merlin had called him that before. He'd also told him he'd be the greatest king the world had ever known. Did Merlin really believe that he was going to unite the five kingdoms? That was impossible! No man had ever been foolish enough to think of such a feat let alone endeavor to do so!

Arthur scoffed, "Surely this is all just some old wife's tale you've heard."

The physician's frown was deep. "Arthur, this is not a joke."

"But, Merlin…"

He paused to think this over. If Merlin was supposed to be the strongest sorcerer to ever live then that would mean he could beat Morgana, right? Wait, was he seriously thinking about using Merlin in a fight? The man could hardly strap his boots on the correct foot let alone wield a sword! How could he possibly be the Emrys that Gaius spoke of?

"Merlin is an idiot," Arthur stated.

"He's a lot smarter than you give him credit for, Arthur," Gaius countered. "He really is Emrys. There has never been nor will there ever be another quite like him."

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked, confused.

"Magic is the fabric of this world, sire," said Gaius, "and Merlin was born of that magic. He is magic itself."

The king's mouth dropped open. "That's – That's not possible," he breathed.

But then he remembered the butterfly and the orb that Merlin had made _without a spell._ Could he really be magic itself? It sounded so strange; impossible even!

"It's the truth," Gaius affirmed. "Merlin has been able to perform magic since before he could talk. It is instinctive to him. Unlike sorcerers who take years to master spells, Merlin can accomplish even the most difficult enchantments after a few simple tries. Magic is as natural and as essential to him as breathing is to us."

"What are you saying, Gaius?" Arthur asked, his voice hoarse.

"That even among his own kind, Merlin is an anomaly," Gaius muttered with a heavy frown. "He is Emrys, magic incarnate, and he was born to serve you, Arthur, to help you become the king you were destined to be. His magic, in essence, belongs to you and he has used it only to protect you and those you care for."

Arthur felt like Gaius had punched him in the stomach with a mace. "I don't believe this," he muttered, his heart hammering wildly in his chest.

"It's a lot to take in," Gaius consoled, "but it is the truth, Arthur. You and Merlin share a destiny that has been foretold for centuries. There are many who have waited a long time for you and the kingdom that you will build."

"Why are you telling me this?" Arthur whispered. He felt like he was being bound in chains, chains so heavy that he was sure they would drag him off his horse and plunge him into the earth.

"You need to know," Gaius answered, "you need to understand. I know that Merlin has upset you, that you feel in a way that he has betrayed you, but he has done more for you than all the efforts of your knights combined. He wishes for nothing but your success, Arthur. And it is with his magic that he has been able to keep you and Camelot safe."

"How so?" Arthur wondered, desperate to get away from this talk about him being some long-awaited king. He was also intently curious; just what had Merlin done for him?

The old physician sighed. "I feel that is a question you should ask Merlin once we have restored him to his proper age. I fear I wouldn't give a satisfactory answer for I have my suspicions that he's done more than even I know. That boy has a horrible habit of keeping things to himself. He carries the world on his shoulders, bearing more than he needs to."

Arthur looked down at the small child with renewed curiosity and yes, a little bitterness. Why couldn't Merlin be his actual age? There was so much he wanted to ask him! So much that he needed to know. _What_ _other secrets have you been hiding from me?_ he wondered.

"Will we be able to find a way to cure him?" he asked quietly.

"I'm sure we will," Gaius answered, "Although, I must ask, what will you do when that happens?"

Arthur glanced at the old man who stared back with a protective glare. "I won't execute him Gaius," he said immediately. "Nor will I banish him – although that might change depending on what I learn concerning what he's done. But I give you my word that I will not pass judgment until I have all the facts. Until then, we need to focus on keeping his magic hidden. I don't want the council to force my hand should an accident arise. Perhaps I can even order Merlin not to use his magic ever again."

"Arthur, while I agree with you that Merlin's magic must remain a secret, he has to be able to use it once in a while."

Arthur frowned. "Why?"

"He's magic itself!" Gaius reiterated. "Don't you understand, Arthur? Preventing Merlin from using magic is like someone closing off your airway. If Merlin doesn't perform magic, he will fall gravely ill. It happened once when he was a child. Hunith wrote to me, telling me that one day Merlin accidentally set their house on fire during a nightmare. He was able to douse the flames and heal their home before anyone noticed but the experience was so traumatic that he decided to stop using his gift. In less than a day he fell ill and his health continued to decline until Hunith ordered him to use it. The second the magic was released Merlin became as healthy as a horse."

Arthur stared. For some odd reason, though it seemed completely bizarre to him, he knew that what Gaius was saying was true.

"Merlin is, for all intents and purposes, a creature of the Old Religion," Gaius continued, "He is unlike any sorcerer you will ever meet, Arthur. He has to use magic for that is what he is. Don't deny him his heritage. But most importantly, please do not treat him differently. His humanity means everything to him and his worst fear is having those closest to him see him as a monster."

"I would never look at Merlin that way," Arthur assured, staring at the sleeping boy. "He may be an idiot and I may not truly know him," – that was painful to say aloud – "but I know I would never think Merlin was a monster. He's Merlin!"

Gaius grinned. "Indeed he is, sire," he muttered, staring fondly at the little boy. "Indeed he is."

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 **So, desirous to share your thoughts? Leave a review! I'd love to hear from you! (Wow, I rhymed without meaning to...)**

 **P.S. I'd give you the translation for the spell I used in this chapter but it might give away later plot detail. I'll give it to you in a future chapter, though, I promise. Until then, remain (patiently) in mystery. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Wow, so much reviewing, favoriting, and following going on for this story. Thanks guys! Okay, before anyone gets too upset or thinks that Arthur is acting out of character, the Arthur we're going to see with little Merlin is a kinder, gentler Arthur than we may be used to. Before this throws anyone off, keep in mind that when Merlin is back to normal Arthur will be able to throw out all of his frustrations. I'm also going off what we've seen when Arthur shows his compassionate, understanding side to his subjects. My eventual goal with this story is to get Arthur to the point of being ready to be the Once and Future King in the legends: one who is kind, empathetic, and patient with those he interacts with. Little Merlin is going to be a major stepping stone to get there. I hope you can all enjoy the softer side of Arthur we only saw in brief moments throughout the show as I bring that to life in further chapters. I mean, come on, who can resist little Merlin when he's tugging on their heartstrings? For those of you waiting for the angry side of Arthur to surface, that'll probably come after Merlin's no longer five.**

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03: The King's Ward

They reached Camelot by mid-afternoon. The second Arthur saw the white walls, his heart swelled within his breast. The love that he felt for the great stone edifice – and more so for the people within – brought a warm smile to his face. Arthur had always cherished his inheritance and every time he laid eyes on it he felt the security of safety, peace, and love flow freely through every inch of his body. _Home_ , he sighed happily.

As they neared the gate, Arthur looked down at Merlin and was thankful to find the little boy was still very much asleep. This boded well. He didn't want Merlin to appear terrified when he brought him through the city, especially since he was supposed to become his 'ward'. Arthur inwardly frowned. Had he done the right thing? Making Merlin his ward meant that he would be treated practically like royalty. He might even become a target to enemies! Arthur wasn't an idiot. He knew that he had many people desirous for his blood. Well, he would just have to make sure that Merlin stayed within his sight – or with one of the others he trusted with the secret – at all times. Gwen and the knights wouldn't fail him, he was sure.

Keeping an arm securely around Merlin's torso, Arthur gently directed Ares through the lower town towards the citadel. The people milling about called out to him cheerfully along the way, all of them casting a curious look at the little blonde in front of him. Yep, by the end of the day the gossip would be all over the city; Arthur would be willing to bet half his treasury with Gwaine on that!

Reaching the inner courtyard, Arthur was unsurprised to find Guinevere, Leon, and a few of the councilmen waiting for them on the steps. His traitorous uncle, unfortunately, was also part of the welcoming committee. Perfect; Arthur had been so concerned about Merlin that he'd completely forgotten about the traitor in their midst. Just another thing to add to the secret meeting he was planning on having with his men as soon as he possibly could.

Guinevere left her position on the steps to rush up to him. "Arthur, Leon told us that you had gone after an intruder. Agravaine said that someone had tried to kidnap Gaius. Are you both alright?"

Arthur smiled softly at her. She was positively stunning in a dress of soft pink and cream tones, her long hair braided in a thick plait down her back, a few tendrils hanging loosely about her face. Gracious, he loved her!

"We're fine, Guinevere," he assured.

Hoisting Merlin's sleeping form so that the boy's arms were now sprawled over his shoulders, Arthur expertly dismounted from his steed with grace. Guinevere eyed the little one with interest and concern.

"Who's that?" she asked.

Arthur made sure to raise his voice so the others on the steps could hear. "This is Arlin. I found him in the woods near the area where I found Gaius. I suspect that the men who tried to take him were also holding him captive. When asked about his family, the poor boy told me he had none. After some deliberation, I have decided to take him in as my ward."

There was a collective gasp on the stairs followed by a series of muttering. _Here we go_ , Arthur inwardly groaned, _now the gossip will spread like wildfire_. Guinevere's surprise was just as profound as the others.

"Your ward?" she repeated, staring at the boy intently.

"Yes," Arthur nodded. Then, in a quieter voice, he muttered, "I'll explain everything later."

Guinevere gave him a searching look before nodding. "Do you want me to take him for you?"

"That won't be necessary," Arthur answered, walking towards the steps. "I have to freshen myself anyway and I don't want to be away from him when he wakes."

"Sire," Agravaine called as the small procession of lords followed him up the steps into the castle, "do you think it wise to take on such a responsibility? You are still adjusting to ruling the kingdom."

Arthur ground his teeth together. "I'm perfectly capable of having a ward, Agravaine, and nothing that anyone says will dissuade me from this course."

By his tone it was clear the subject was closed. Some of the lords did not look happy about this. Leon had remained silent with a calculating look on his face. Arthur wondered what the man was thinking. Deciding that he'd had enough of being followed, Arthur dismissed the lords and his uncle before asking Guinevere, Leon, and Gaius to accompany him to his chambers.

The second Agravaine and the others were gone Leon asked the question that had been on the tip of his tongue the moment he saw the king return. "Sire, where is Merlin?"

Guinevere looked around. "Yes, I noticed he wasn't with you. Leon told me the two of you went off together."

"He's been planning to go visit his mother for a while now," Arthur answered, not daring to have the truth be overheard by a servant –or worse, his uncle – as they walked. "I gave him two weeks off."

"That was generous," Guinevere observed though something in her tone told Arthur that she didn't believe him.

"Yes, well, he had been pining over going for quite some time," Arthur continued, hoping he sounded nonchalant. "Once we took care of the threat and Gaius was safe, he continued on to Ealdor while we made the journey back to Camelot."

Leon and Guinevere shared a glance. Arthur knew they didn't believe a word he was saying but he prayed that any others would buy it. They had to! He couldn't have people figuring out the truth!

When they reached his chambers, Arthur asked a servant to go fetch the other Knights of the Round. Ignoring Leon and Guinevere's questioning eyes Arthur crossed the room and gently laid Merlin onto his bed. The little boy curled onto his side, burrowing into the blanket Arthur threw over him. The king's face softened as he lightly ruffled the blonde hair. It was so strange, knowing this little boy was Merlin. The blonde hair really worked wonders of deceit.

Quietly walking away from Merlin's sleeping form, Arthur turned to his guests. "Please, take a seat," he invited, gesturing to the table. Guinevere sat on his left while Leon sat down next to Gaius on the right. "I promise I'll explain everything as soon as the others get here," he added, halting the inquiry on his love's lips. Guinevere nodded, casting her eyes fleetingly on Merlin's little form.

It didn't take long for Sirs Gwaine, Elyan, and Percival to arrive. The three men entered the room and immediately sought out the little boy sleeping on Arthur's bed.

"So it's true?" Gwaine wondered, his surprise mirrored in the faces of Elyan and Percival. "Rumor has it that you took in a little boy, princess."

Arthur frowned. "It seems the gossip is spreading faster than I thought. Yes, Gwaine, it's true – as far as the people outside this room are concerned."

Leon's eyebrows drew close together. "Sire?" he prompted.

Arthur walked over to his door and made sure it was securely shut before walking back to the head of the table. Once seated, he threaded his fingers together and pondered over exactly what he was going to say. Part of him almost felt it was an invasion of Merlin's trust to tell the knights and Guinevere that he had magic. But Merlin wasn't exactly capable at the moment of dealing with his friends reactions to his secret. The king scowled. Who would have thought this burden would have been placed on him? Why did he have to deal with this?

Arthur let out a heavy sigh, glancing over his shoulder where his little manservant lay _. I can't fail him_ _now,_ he silently thought. _Not when he's like this. If our roles were reversed, he would do everything he could to protect me. Even if I'm furious with him, I can't bring myself to hate him. I think the others will feel similarly. We'll all protect him until this is sorted. Then I can demand answers and lock him up in the stocks for a year!_

"Arthur?" Guinevere questioned.

The king removed himself from his inner thoughts and let out another sigh. Lowering his hands, he made eye contact with each person at his table. Each of them he could trust, he knew this with his heart. He knew he could trust Merlin too, even if the man had lied to him for _years!_

 _Focus, Arthur_ , he reminded himself.

"There is much that must be discussed," he began, "and I have full confidence that every person in this room will not disclose anything I say."

The hidden warning he put behind the words was clear: do not cross me. The knights shared concerned looks but each of them stared back at their king with loyalty in their countenances.

"Does this have to do with Agravaine?" asked Leon.

"Partially," Arthur admitted.

"Agravaine?" questioned Elyan. "What has he done?"

"Each of you remembers just a few days ago when we were ambushed traveling through the Valley of the Fallen Kings?" Several of them nodded. "As Leon deduced, we have a traitor in our midst."

"Agravaine," Guinevere breathed.

Arthur nodded solemnly. "Though it gives me no great pleasure to admit it, it's the truth. Agravaine is in league with Morgana."

There was a collective round of expletives as each knight vented their frustrations. Arthur tried to quiet them, glancing worriedly at the bed. Merlin shifted in his sleep, his eyes scrunched tight, but he didn't wake. Arthur breathed a sigh of relief.

"Alright, what's with the kid, Arthur?" asked Gwaine.

"That kid, Gwaine, is Merlin."

Everyone besides Gaius froze in place, confusion burrowing into their foreheads and shooting from their eyes. Arthur took an unsteady breath and quickly explained everything that happened the night before with the sorcerer and what he had said.

"Let me get this straight," Gwaine muttered, his eyes narrowed dangerously, "Agravaine, on Morgana's orders, hired a sorcerer to kidnap Gaius and when you and Merlin foolishly ran off to handle the rescue yourselves the man turned Merlin into a five year old?!"

"Yes," Arthur replied, frustrated. He hadn't even gotten to the worst of it yet!

"But, that boy has blonde hair," said Elyan.

"Yes and if you'd let me finish I'll explain why," Arthur grumbled.

"Wait – there's _more?"_ cried Gwaine.

"Will you lower your voice?!" Arthur said through his teeth, gesturing to the slumbering boy behind him.

Gwaine scowled. "Sorry."

Arthur opened his mouth to continue when Merlin started thrashing behind him.

"No," he moaned, rolling over in his sleep. "No! Please! Leave me alone!"

Arthur immediately leapt from his chair, rushing to the bed. He had a suspicion that he knew what was going on. "Merlin, wake up," he commanded, shaking the boy's shoulder.

"No!" Merlin began to cry. "I didn't do anything! It wasn't me! I'm sorry! Please, don't hurt me!"

And then the little boy woke, screaming, his eyes flaring a brilliant gold. A blast of raw magical power flew from the tiny form. The shockwave swept Arthur off his feet, the king toppling onto the floor. The knights, Guinevere, and Gaius were thrown from their chairs as the mighty gust flipped them and the table. The doors creaked in protest but didn't fly from their hinges and the windows shattered completely, glass falling with an almighty crash onto the stone floor and courtyard below.

Arthur leapt to his feet just as the guards forced the doors open. Witnessing the damage, they poised their weapons for attack.

"Are you alright, Sire?" asked the nearest.

"I'm fine," Arthur assured, waving them away.

"What happened?" demanded another.

"Sorcery!" Leon cried as he helped Guinevere to her feet.

"Yes!" Arthur said while doing everything he could not to look at Merlin who was currently so distraught he didn't realize what was going on. "Something shattered the windows. I want you men down in the courtyard. See if you can find anything."

"Right away, Sire." The two bowed and left the room, shutting the doors behind them.

Ignoring the look of disbelief on Leon's face, Arthur returned to the bed and sat down in front of Merlin. The small boy started but upon seeing who it was in front of him sprung from his position on the bed and clung to Arthur like a lifeline.

"Shhhh," Arthur soothed, holding the trembling child. "I'm right here."

Merlin's sobs intensified, his little head digging into the crook of the king's neck.

Arthur kept his arms firmly planted around Merlin's small form, rubbing his blonde hair every so often. When the little sorcerer had finally calmed down, he pulled back and rubbed his red-rimmed eyes.

"You weren't there," he accused, staring up at Arthur in disbelief. "That was the first time you weren't there! They – They took me away!"

Arthur reclaimed Merlin to his chest and held him close. "I'm here now, Merlin. Nobody is going to take you away."

"P-Promise?"

"Promise," Arthur assured, pulling him away just enough to reaffirm that with his eyes.

Merlin's tiny shoulders immediately relaxed as he rubbed his eyes again on his overly long sleeve. A large grin, small but unmistakably Merlin's, donned his face. "Okay." He then looked around at the mess, his eyes widening on the broken window. "Did I do that?" he asked quietly, pointing at the shards of colored glass.

"Yes but I don't think you meant to," said Arthur almost with a question in his voice. Had Merlin meant to do that?

The little boy looked horrified. "Not again!" he cried. "I'm sorry, Arthur, I didn't mean to! Mommy says it happens sometimes when I'm really scared. I broke all the glass in our house last time. But I can fix it!"

"Merlin!" Arthur protested but the little boy launched himself out of the king's arms and scurried over the bed to the window. Holding out his hand, his eyes flashed gold and thousands of shards leapt into the air and rearranged themselves into the window they had originally been. Grinning at his work, Merlin turned back only to have the king hit him over the head.

"Ouch!" he cried, rubbing his skull, new tears beginning to form from the unexpected treatment. "What did I do?" he gasped.

After checking the courtyard to find no one had seen all the glass returning to its rightful place, Arthur looked down to Merlin. The little boy was sniffling, trying hard not to cry as he rubbed his head. Realizing his mistake, Arthur tried to look apologetic. But was it his fault that normally he would have hit Merlin for being such an idiot?

"Sorry," he apologized, "it's just, you broke a rule, Merlin."

The young boy's eyes widened in horror. "Rule number three!" he cried in dismay. "Don't use magic in front of anyone unless you tell me too!" He then noticed the knights gathered in a small group, staring at him with wide uncomprehending eyes. Merlin let out a squeak of fear and in the blink of an eye he was clinging to Arthur. "Knights," he whispered, horrified. "Knights take you away to the Dragon King. Oh no! They just saw me use magic! They're going to take me away! Don't let them, Arthur! Please!"

"Calm down, you idiot," Arthur said, pulling Merlin away from him.

Merlin frowned. "Why did you call me an idiot? I'm not stupid!"

"That's debatable," Arthur muttered.

Merlin scowled. "Well… if I'm an idiot then you're a – a prat!"

Arthur's eyes widened.

"That's Merlin," Gwaine gasped, his finger pointing at the little boy, his expression one of astonishment. "Only Merlin calls Arthur that and gets away with it."

"B-But…" Elyan stuttered, eyes the size of dinner plates, "he just…"

"Magic," Percival whispered in disbelief. "Merlin has magic."

"Well," Guinevere laughed nervously, "that would explain why his hair is blonde. Did you put him up to that Arthur?"

"He chose the color," Arthur answered with a hesitant smile, "but as my Court Sorcerer, his true identity must be kept a secret."

"Court Sorcerer!" Leon cried in disbelief.

Arthur glared at him as Merlin tensed against him in fear. "Yes, Leon," he said, trying to put the silent warning in his tone, praying that they would understand the delicacy of this situation. "Merlin agreed to be my Court Sorcerer, a secret position that only a select few are to know about. He has very specific rules he is to follow."

And before Arthur could get another word in, Merlin jumped at the opportunity to share said rules with their small audience. He recited each one perfectly and after giving them all, he looked to Arthur, clearly wanting praise.

The king couldn't help rolling his eyes as he shoved him lightly. "Show off," he grinned.

"Hey!" Merlin complained, trying to regain his footing but tripping on the overly large shirt. He began to fall but Arthur grabbed him before he could hit the floor.

"Yep, that's Merlin alright," Gwaine weakly chuckled. "Even as a child he can't stay properly on his feet."

"So, Arthur, Merlin mentioned Secret Protectors," prompted Guinevere.

Merlin tugged on Arthur's sleeve. "Are they…?" he questioned, his eyes darting to the daunting knights.

Arthur nodded. The little boy instantly took his hand, hiding a little behind his pant leg. Arthur rolled his eyes. "Come on, Merlin, there's no need to pretend to be shy."

But then he felt the trembling. Merlin wasn't shy. He was scared. Arthur glanced at the bewildered knights before getting down on one knee. "Hey," he soothed, catching Merlin's eye, "there's no need to be scared. The knights are good men, remember?"

"Just like you?" Merlin muttered.

"Just like me," Arthur smirked, ignoring Gwaine's slightly amused cough.

"Who's the pretty lady," Merlin asked.

If Merlin had been older and called his love pretty, Arthur would have punched him. Guinevere's light giggling didn't help any. She almost sounded flattered. Trying not to scowl, Arthur answered, "That's Guinevere, Merlin."

Not waiting for Merlin to come to her, Guinevere crossed the floor and crouched down next to the child. "Hello, Merlin," she greeted, her brown eyes soft and warm, "you can call me Gwen."

Merlin's tremors immediately lessened. "Hello," he smiled, easily taken in by her warm greeting. He glanced at Arthur. "Is she an angel?"

Guinevere blushed and Arthur couldn't help laughing lightly. "I believe she is," he answered honestly.

"Can I give her something?"

Arthur blinked, surprised by the question. "Um, sure?"

Biting his lip a little nervously, Merlin put his hands together and his eyes lit momentarily with gold. Guinevere gasped from the change but tried not to show her apprehension. Arthur wondered if Merlin had made another butterfly but when the little boy opened his hands they revealed a yellow rose.

"Mommy says yellow roses mean friendship," Merlin said smartly, "will you be my friend?"

Guinevere's anxiety transformed into a tender smile. Accepting the rose, she smelled the delicate bloom. "I'd love to, Merlin," she answered. "This is beautiful, thank you."

Merlin beamed.

"Can I get a rose too, mate?" asked Gwaine.

Merlin peeked around Guinevere at the knights who had shuffled forward a little to get a better look at him. Scuffing the floor nervously, Merlin glanced at Arthur before stuttering, "Y-You want one?"

"Of course," Gwaine grinned, striding forward and dropping down in front of Merlin.

The little boy tensed and Arthur sent Gwaine a warning glare. The carefree knight was hurt from Merlin's fear towards him but he refused to back away. He kept his face calm and friendly and soon the little boy relaxed.

"Okay," Merlin answered, once again closing his hands to conjure another rose.

"Amazing," Gwaine muttered, having watched Merlin's blue eyes switch to brilliant gold. "Thanks, mate," he grinned as Merlin timidly handed him the flower.

"He's a knight?" Merlin wondered skeptically.

Arthur busted up laughing. "Doesn't seem like one, does he?"

"Hey! I'll have you know I'm one of the best knights in this kingdom!" Gwaine cried indignantly though he did wink at Merlin as he said this.

The little boy giggled. "I like you. You're funny."

Gwaine's smile was broad as he shook one of Merlin's small hands in his own. "Sir Gwaine," he said, "it's a pleasure to meet you, Merlin."

"Don't keep him to yourself, Gwaine, we want to meet Merlin too," Percival said behind him.

Gwaine backed up, giving them room. "Alright but don't scare him away, Percival."

Merlin automatically latched onto Arthur as the gentle giant strode forward. Arthur couldn't blame him; even to a grown man Percival was huge.

"Hello Merlin," Percival greeted with a surprisingly gentle voice. "I'm Percival. How old are you?"

"I'm five," Merlin answered, holding out his hand.

"Are you now? That means you're all grown up."

Merlin's eyes widened. "That's exactly what mommy told me!"

"Well, she must be a very smart woman," Percival said.

Merlin immediately grinned. "She's the best! I miss her though," he muttered, glancing at Arthur again. "Arthur and Gaius said she had to go take care of a friend so I had to come here to the Dragon's castle."

"Merlin," Arthur interjected.

"Oh – right – Camelot," Merlin corrected. "Sorry Arthur."

"Dragon's castle?" Elyan quietly repeated to Leon who shrugged.

Out of all his knights, Arthur was afraid the most of how Leon would react but he needn't have worried. He treated Merlin just as warmly as the others, even going so far as to laugh when Merlin unexpectedly pulled on one of his curls. Even as a child, Merlin had won their hearts. Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. It was clear the knights still had questions blazing behind their cheerful interactions but they were willing to wait when Merlin wasn't present in order to voice them.

"I like your blonde hair, Merlin," Elyan commented, ruffling the locks.

Merlin huffed, "Arthur said I had to have it this way for my secret identity. My hair's really black though."

"I don't doubt it," Elyan chuckled.

"But that has to be kept a secret," Arthur stressed.

"I _know_ , Arthur," Merlin replied sullenly, "you don't have to remind me all the time. I'm not a dollophead you know."

The king poked him in the stomach. "Oh really? I think you are! Only dollopheads wear clothes that don't fit them."

"This isn't mine!" he complained, throwing out his arms.

The large blue shirtsleeves dangled back and forth and Arthur felt a slight pang of sadness. _Yes it is, Merlin,_ he inwardly corrected. _If only you could remember._ He didn't appear to be the only one subdued by the comment. The amused twinkle left Gwaine's eye and the other three knights were frowning.

Guinevere appeared upset as well, but she hid it through a suppressed chuckle, "Of course not. That shirt is much too big for you. Say, Merlin, why don't we find you something that properly fits your arms?"

Merlin frowned. "Are we going shopping?"

"That is how one usually finds clothes that fit him," Arthur teased.

The little boy stuck out his tongue towards the king. "I know that!" Then his expression changed to one of shame. Looking down at the ground he muttered, "But I don't have any money."

Arthur scoffed. "Money isn't a problem, Merlin. As my ward, anything you need to buy will be paid by the crown."

Merlin looked up at him, surprised. "Really?"

Arthur nodded.

The little boy bit his lip. "But… how will I pay you back?"

Arthur shared a pitied glance with Leon. Having been born into nobility, neither of them had ever had to worry about money. Arthur hadn't even given it much thought when he was a child. If he wanted something, it was given to him, plain and simple. It didn't matter where it came from. But Merlin's circumstances had been different. He'd lived in a tiny village in a small house with a mother and no father to provide for them. He'd probably learned from a very tender age that money was not to be taken lightly. It was even possible that Hunith had fallen into debt a few times to keep food on the table and a roof over their heads.

Dropping on one knee, Arthur placed both hands on Merlin's small shoulders. "Merlin, as your protector, it is my duty to make sure you are taken care of. You will want for nothing, you will never have to worry about paying me back, and anything you stand in need of will be given to you."

Anxiety swam within the youth's remarkable blue eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Arthur said, hoping to convey that there really wasn't a need for Merlin to worry.

"Okay," he said hesitantly.

Guinevere then wasted no time gathering Merlin into her arms. "Come on," she said, "we'll leave these boys to talk. I expect to be filled in later." She gazed pointedly at Arthur.

The king nodded, silent gratitude extended towards her for thinking of a creative way to get Merlin out of the room. He knew the knights had questions and so did she but he could always fill her in on things later that night when they were alone.

"Guinevere? Merlin?" he called when they were almost at the door.

"Yeah Arthur?" Merlin asked.

"Remember your secret identity," Arthur pressed.

"I know," Merlin sighed. "My name is Arlin and I'm the king's ward."

"And don't you forget it," Arthur warned his little manservant.

"I won't," Merlin sadly promised.

"Come on, Arlin," Guinevere said with a light smile, "let's find you some clothes worthy of being the ward of the king."

"Okay," Merlin muttered, his eyes locked on Arthur still. Fear and uncertainty leapt from those small blue orbs. This would be the first time since becoming a five year old that Merlin would be away from him and Arthur strangely felt just as scared and anxious as the little boy. But he couldn't expect to keep Merlin attached to his hip every waking hour of the day! He had a kingdom to run after all – and a traitor to deal with.

The second the door shut, the knights rounded on the king.

"Were you going to tell us that Merlin has magic anytime soon, princess?" Gwaine demanded, his eyes filled with an inner fire.

"I was going to but then he woke up!" Arthur snapped.

"Well, if you think of doing anything to him, I'll –"

"Before you threaten to gut me, will you _shut up_ and _listen?"_ Arthur shouted.

"We're all ears, sire," said Leon, his tone subdued.

Arthur ran a frustrated hand through his blonde hair. "I didn't know about Merlin's magic until he was five and I listened to him project all of these fears about the Dragon's castle, knights in red, and the Dragon King burning people at the stake."

"No wonder he was scared of us," Gwaine muttered. "He's been taught to fear Camelot and everything that happens to sorcerers."

"But how long has he been practicing magic?" asked Elyan.

"His entire life," Gaius answered.

Arthur jumped. The old man had been so quiet during the whole exchange earlier that Arthur almost forgot he was there. The other knights turned to Gaius as well, eyeing him with flummoxed expressions.

"What do you mean by that, Gaius?" asked Leon.

And so began the explanation of Emrys, his unique magic, and his destiny to protect the Once and Future King. It wasn't hard for the knights to draw conclusions as Arthur had; so many lucky breaks against impossible odds and run-ins with bandits were frequent favorite topics of conversation at the tavern.

"Just how many times has he saved our necks?" Percival asked quietly.

"I'm not sure," Gaius answered.

"But I can think of at least one," Arthur interjected. "Several years ago Merlin was poisoned and I went to find a flower that was the only way to cure him. I landed into an impossible situation and I truly thought I was going to die. But then a blue orb of light appeared, guiding me to safety. Merlin showed me this same orb this morning."

Gwaine slumped back into his chair. "The most powerful sorcerer to ever live is the King of Camelot's manservant… who would have thought?"

"It's hard to believe," Elyan admitted. "I mean, when I think of sorcerers I can't picture Merlin being one at all."

"But it explains what none of us could figure out about him before," said Leon.

The others nodded.

"We need to protect him!" Gwaine declared, glaring at Arthur.

The king huffed indignantly. "I'm not going to do anything to him, Gwaine! He's five years old!"

"But what about when we get him back?" the knight challenged.

"I don't know!" Arthur shouted, frustrated. "I'm not going to execute him! I could never do that. But he's been lying to me for almost a decade, Gwaine! What part of Merlin is real and what isn't? I need to know and I can't until he's back to normal."

"So, what? You're going to banish him?" Gwaine roared.

"That depends on Merlin!" Arthur snapped.

"Arthur, he saved your life – our lives – for _years!_ You can't overlook that!"

"I'm not!" shouted Arthur. "What concerns me is his motivation for doing so. He's supposedly the most powerful sorcerer to ever exist. I know, Gaius, that you said it's his destiny to serve the Once and Future King but it's also his destiny to restore magic to the land."

"So you selfishly want to know if Merlin's service has been out of loyalty to you or to magic," Leon surmised.

Arthur froze, his eyes downcast. Putting it that way, it seemed so petty…

But it was the truth.

"Is that so wrong?" he whispered, unable to bring his eyes up to look at any of his men.

Gaius reached over and took the king's forearm. "There is nothing wrong with that, sire," he assured, "and though you might not believe me, I say this with all the conviction of my soul: Merlin's loyalty to you is fastened into a foundation so strong that, no matter the strain it has to endure, it will never crumble. Even if you chose not to repeal the ban on magic, he would stay by your side and protect you the best way he knows how because you are the king he has chosen to serve."

"But Merlin can't stay in Camelot," said Elyan, "not when he has magic."

"He _is_ magic, Elyan," Arthur corrected.

"His very existence is outlawed then," Gwaine grumbled. "Well, I tell you this, princess, if you banish Merlin, I'm leaving too – and I'll make sure to punch you as hard as I can in the nose before I do."

"Let's not focus on that for now," suggested Percival before Arthur could form a heated reply. "Merlin's fate cannot be decided until the man is able to defend himself. We need to find a way to remove the enchantment he's under."

There was a heavy round of agreement to this and Arthur found himself silently grateful for Percival's clear head concerning the matter.

"Very well spoken, Percival," he praised, "and you are right; we need to fix this problem. We also have the business with Agravaine to consider."

"What would you like us to do, sire?" asked Leon, ever ready to follow orders.

Arthur inwardly smiled. He knew he could count on these men. "First things first, Merlin's magic and his identity are to remain hidden at all costs. As you heard, I've given him rules to follow but he's going to need constant reminding. From what we have learned, he _is_ magic, and we've seen a little of what he can do."

"It's like nothing I've ever seen," Gwaine commented. "He didn't say anything when he made the roses."

"Merlin's magic is instinctive," said Gaius. "It is reflexive to him. When I first met him, I tested his abilities by knocking over a pitcher of water. Instead of reaching out with his arms to try and catch it, his magic instinctively froze the water in place. It stayed that way until he realized what he'd done and ceased his magic's flow. There has never been another like him nor will there ever be. He is indeed special."

"Special or not, he's going to be a handful," Arthur complained. "I can't have him breaking windows and toppling furniture with every nightmare he has."

"Speaking of, what was that about, princess?" asked Gwaine. "He said something about accusing you of not coming to rescue him?"

Arthur suddenly felt heat filter into his cheeks. "Well," he muttered, his eyes on the table, "apparently Merlin dreams about me saving him from men who are about to take him away."

There was a collective silence and then Gwaine shared a gleeful grin with Percival. "Oh, this is _perfect_ blackmail," he chuckled.

"I'm sure there will be plenty of that by the time we get him back to normal," Arthur said, cracking his own smile. "But for now we need to find a cure. Gaius said that sorcery can only be fought with sorcery."

"But, sire, forgive me for saying this," said Percival, "but, who would help us? Camelot is not known for being friendly to those who have such gifts."

Arthur noted how the knight had labeled magic as a gift rather than an evil. He had to admit that since learning about Merlin he was feeling that way himself. "There has to be someone!" he said desperately.

"Sire, if I may," interrupted Gaius, "the druids are a peaceful people. They are well versed in magic and they will not treat any who come seeking their help with hostility. Not to mention…"

"Yes," Arthur prompted when the old man paused.

Gaius reluctantly continued, "I have no doubt that they would do anything to help Merlin."

"Why do you say that?" asked Leon.

The old physician sighed. "Merlin wouldn't want you to know this but I feel differently. Now that you know of his identity as Emrys you'll learn it eventually anyway." The knights leaned closer, piqued. "The druids look to Emrys in a similar way that the people of Camelot look to you, Arthur," Gaius revealed.

Nobody moved and then Arthur scoffed, "You can't be serious!" Gaius's famous disapproving eyebrow appeared. He was deathly serious. Arthur felt himself spluttering, "But – this is _Merlin!_ "

"Yes," Gaius replied, "and the druids look to him as if he were their king, some maybe even consider him closer to a deity. They would do anything for him, Arthur, even give their very lives if necessary."

Arthur wasn't the only one with his jaw dangling now. Merlin as a sovereign of anything was just too absurd.

"My head hurts," Gwaine muttered, rubbing his temple.

"Are there any other revelations we should know about Gaius?" Arthur demanded. The physician fidgeted. The king's eyes narrowed. "Gaius," he warned.

The old man sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I do not feel I should be the one telling you these things, sire. Merlin should be."

"I need to know," Arthur said stubbornly but then he let his desperation show, "please, Gaius, we can't help him if we don't know everything we can about him. I'll learn what he has done for Camelot once he has been restored but any other… _titles_ , anything to do with his powers, we need to know in order to keep him safe."

"Alright," Gaius consented, "but you're not going to like what I have to tell you. I only ask that you allow me to say everything that needs to be said without interruptions."

The younger men all nodded their agreement with his terms and Gaius found himself telling a love story.

"Many years ago, towards the peak of the Purge, Uther sought out the dragonlords just as vigorously as he did sorcerers. He slaughtered them all save for one man, Balinor, and that is because I helped him escape. I sent him to a small village in another kingdom where I thought he'd be safe. There he found love. But Balinor wasn't safe, for Uther continued to pursue him, even though he was no longer in Camelot's lands," Gaius continued. "He fled, leaving behind the love of his life, ignorant that she was carrying his child."

Gwaine finally seemed to catch on. With a quiet gasp, he breathed the name of his first friend. "Merlin," he whispered.

Gaius nodded. "Merlin grew up without a father. He was teased, ridiculed, and rejected by many in his village because of it. He did not know that Balinor was his father until the night before he and Arthur left on their quest to find him. I confessed the truth. Unfortunately, Balinor died in his arms before he could return with him to Camelot and stop Kilgharrah, the Great Dragon. The power of a dragonlord passes from father to son upon death. Therefore, Merlin is the last dragonlord."

Gwaine and Arthur swore at the same time. The king slumped in his chair, stunned. Merlin was a dragonlord. And his father had died in his arms. Arthur remembered when he'd confronted Merlin about crying over the man's death. _"No man is worth your tears,"_ he had said. What an insensitive, horrific thing to say! Arthur wanted to sink into the floor and disappear into the earth. He remembered Merlin's reaction. The boy had smiled and made a half-hearted jab towards him. Inwardly in mourning, he kept his grief hidden behind that smile. How many other smiles were hiding such pain? How else had Merlin suffered?

"So Merlin killed the Great Dragon," Gwaine surmised, punching Arthur in the arm and bringing him out of his inner guilt-trip. "Looks like you can strike 'dragon-slayer' from your list of achievements, princess."

Arthur scowled. Merlin had taken care of the dragon and yet he gave Arthur the credit. How often had that happened? Were any of Arthur's achievements his own? Once again he found himself utterly frustrated concerning Merlin's current predicament. He couldn't clarify anything!

Gaius coughed, "Actually, Merlin did not slay the dragon."

Wait –

" _What?"_ Arthur cried, disbelief and anger beginning to lick his insides. "That beast slaughtered dozens of people and Merlin didn't kill it?!"

"Sire," Gaius gently reprimanded, "you need to understand, dragonlords and dragons are kin. Kilgharrah was the last of his race. If Merlin killed him, it would be as if he murdered his own brother. He couldn't bring himself to do that. It would have destroyed him. He banished the dragon from Camelot and commanded him to never attack the city again on pain of death. Kilgharrah cannot go against any command Merlin gives him. I can assure you the dragon is no longer a threat."

"It doesn't change the fact that he murdered and attacked my people!" Arthur snapped.

"Sire, forgive me, but wouldn't _you_ be driven to revenge if you had been locked away for twenty years while the rest of your race was hunted and slaughtered? Doomed to live the rest of your life chained underground, unable to venture beyond the shackles to which you were bound?" asked Gaius with heavy disapproval.

Arthur was torn. He could see the logic of what Gaius was saying but revenge was wrong. Killing countless innocents in an act of rage directed towards one specific person was inexcusable.

"Arthur," Gaius sighed, "Dragons are not dumb beasts that merely attack when provoked. They are intelligent creatures that feel, hurt, love, and live similarly to the way humans do. They are flawed just as we are. Kilgharrah was overcome with rage and revenge when he attacked the citadel. He was not in his right mind. It took Merlin to cease his ire and ever since he has done what he can to aid Merlin and your destiny. His advice has provided success many times to the impossible tasks Merlin has had to undertake in protecting you and Camelot."

"Wait, his advice?" questioned Elyan. "Dragons give advice? How?"

"The same way humans do," Gaius smiled, amused, "with their voice."

"The dragon can talk?!" Arthur cried, his anger returning in full force.

"Indeed, sire," Gaius confirmed.

"If he could speak, why did he not try to negotiate with us?" asked Leon before Arthur could.

"Like I said before, dragons are similar to humans," replied the physician, "when enraged, we don't usually communicate with words but with fists and weapons."

"He has a point," Percival commented. "I think we can all agree that there have been times in our lives where we have acted in rage without thinking properly."

The silence ensuing around the table confirmed agreement from each individual to these words. Arthur sighed. Merlin was a dragonlord and the dragon that he had supposedly killed still roamed free somewhere. Just what else was Merlin hiding from them? Wait…

"Gaius," Arthur muttered slowly, a dreadful realization dawning upon him, "a few weeks ago, we traveled to the tomb of Ashkanar where a dragon egg supposedly was…"

"Yes," Gaius answered, knowing where this was going.

"He _didn't_." Arthur voiced.

"Oh but I think he did," Gwaine groaned.

"Merlin saved the egg," Gaius confirmed, "and he hatched it."

"Merlin… _hatched_ it?" Percival repeated, confused.

Arthur had a rather disturbing image of his manservant sitting on an egg like a chicken. The others appeared to be having similar imagery in their minds.

Gaius, seeming to read their thoughts, chuckled before explaining, "Dragonlords bring new dragons into the world by giving them a name."

"Oh," Arthur breathed, silently relieved the process was different from the usual hatching of other animals. But then he realized what Gaius had been getting at. "Wait, this means there's another dragon wandering around!"

"Yes, sire," Gaius said with a nod. "She is very young. From what Merlin tells me, she is white; a rare color for a dragon. Her name is Aithusa."

"Are there any other dragons flying around that we should know about?" Arthur asked, his brain numb.

"No. Kilgharrah and Aithusa truly are the last of their race," Gaius muttered sadly.

"I'd love to meet them," Gwaine mused.

"Perhaps you will one day," Gaius smiled.

"Can he command them right now?" asked Leon.

"I believe so," said Gaius. "He may be a child but that would not have altered his power in any way. In fact, the dragons may even be able to help us learn how to restore him. Their magic is powerful and capable of doing many miraculous things."

"Right, so we can either go to the druids who will treat Merlin like royalty or to the dragons that can fry us to a crisp if he asks them too," Arthur sourly joked. "As if being the world's most powerful sorcerer wasn't enough!"

"Are you jealous of Merlin, princess?" Gwaine grinned, wigging his eyebrows.

"No!" Arthur snapped. "I'm frustrated!"

"Jealous," Gwaine muttered to Percival.

Arthur ground his teeth together. So maybe he was a little jealous. It was a hard thing to accept after all, especially when you believed the man you thought you knew was nothing more than a sometimes wise, clumsy servant. Merlin held more power than he did and he was the king! It was a hard realization to swallow. Shoving these ridiculous feelings aside, Arthur tried to regain some dignity.

"All of this is fine and good but what we need to discuss is how to keep that idiot safe," he snapped. "I told him that you four plus Guinevere, myself, and Gaius would be his Secret Protectors. I'm counting on each of you to make sure he doesn't go and do something stupid. Revealing his magic in any way is the worst possible thing that he can do. We need to make sure this doesn't happen. I will instruct him to only use magic when alone with any one of us."

"You do realize this is Merlin you're talking about," Gwaine scoffed. "Since when has he ever listened to the rules?"

"Right now Merlin is at an age when a father or elder brother figure is most influential," said Gaius. "He will want to please for he seeks love and acceptance. He will do what is asked of him. He already looks to Arthur and I'm sure he will do the same for each of you. If we are vigilant in making sure he hides his magic I am sure he will do everything he can to do so."

"Why can't we just tell him not to use it?" asked Elyan.

"Remember what I said earlier?" said Gaius, "Merlin is magic itself, Elyan. Cutting him off from magic would be the same as cutting off the blood circulation in your body."

"Right, so no stopping Merlin from using magic then," Gwaine deduced.

"When do you suggest we seek out the druids, sire?" asked Leon.

"I want to do so as soon as possible but we still have the matter of Agravaine to take care of," Arthur sighed. "Before yesterday, I asked Merlin for advice on the matter and he suggested catching Agravaine in the act of treason."

"A good plan," commented Percival.

"Does this mean we get to tail the weasel?" asked Gwaine.

"That's exactly what it means," said Arthur. "I want at least one of you keeping track of him at all times. You will have to do so discreetly; I don't want him learning of our suspicions. But I don't want you to neglect caring for Merlin in the process. I would keep him in my sights at all times if I could but I have duties that are not conducive to having a child present."

"So you're assigning us to babysit a sorcerer," Gwaine grinned. "Oh, this is going to be fun!"

"Leon, don't let Gwaine corrupt Merlin," said Arthur. "He's already bad enough without the influence of this idiot."

"Hey! I won't corrupt Merlin."

"Yeah you will," came the collective reply of the other four men in the room.

Gwaine huffed, folding his arms. "Fine, I'll behave myself."

"Good," Arthur said with a pointed glare. "Well, I think that covers everything. We keep Merlin's identity a secret and our eyes trained on Agravaine. Any questions?"

"Just one, princess."

"Yes?" Arthur asked slightly annoyed.

"Merlin's pretending to be your ward… where's he going to sleep?"

It was a surprisingly valid question coming from Gwaine. Merlin couldn't retire to Gaius's chambers and Arthur wasn't keen on the idea of sharing his bed with his manservant – even if he was a five year old! No, he _definitely_ didn't feel comfortable doing that. But he didn't want Merlin far away from him either.

"The chambers right next to yours are currently empty, sire," suggested Gaius. "This would be an acceptable location seeing as it is near and appropriate for someone his age."

"That's a good idea, Gaius," Arthur agreed. "I'll have some servants arrange the room."

"Don't you think it's a little strange that Merlin is going to be your ward?" teased Leon.

"It's only temporary," Arthur groused.

"He's going to milk that for all it's worth when he's back to normal," Gwaine chuckled. "It's not every day that a servant achieves what is practically known as a status of royalty."

"Let's hope he doesn't remember any of this then," Arthur grumbled, not at all looking forward to all the teasing demands his manservant was sure to give once all of this was sorted.

There was a soft knock on the door and Arthur shouted, "Come!"

The door opened and Guinevere came striding in, dragging little Merlin behind her. His tunic was bright green, his trousers brown, and his small boots black. The fabric was made of the same sturdy material as the king's royal wear, little lines of embroidery on the cuffs and neckline. Arthur lamented that there wasn't a neckerchief but that was a trademark of Merlin's and it would be a dead giveaway to anyone who could put two and two together. As it was, the outfit combined with the blonde hair was enough to almost throw even Arthur off; Merlin didn't look a thing like himself.

"What do you think?" asked Guinevere. "Isn't he cute?"

"I'm not cute!" Merlin complained, his cheeks tinged pink.

"Definitely cute," Gwaine laughed, appraising the little boy.

Arthur chuckled. "You look like a king's ward, Merlin. A perfect disguise."

Merlin sighed. "I wanted a neckerchief but Gwen wouldn't let me have one!"

Guinevere looked a little exasperated. "He was most insistent," she admitted. "But I told him it would ruin his secret identity since Merlin wears neckerchiefs but Arlin doesn't."

The knights and Gaius were all heavily amused. Merlin was definitely attached to his neckwear.

The little boy pouted, "I don't like being Arlin."

Arthur sighed, rising from the table to come over and scoop Merlin into his arms. "You might not but it's necessary, Court Sorcerer," he whispered conspiratorially. "No one can know who you really are, remember?"

"I know," Merlin grumbled.

Trying to cheer him up, Arthur decided to distract him. "Hey, are you hungry?"

It seemed to work instantly. "Yeah!" he said, his stomach growling in confirmation.

Arthur laughed, the others chuckling around him. "Then why don't we get something to eat?"

"Okay," Merlin grinned before looking around. "Are we going to cook in here?"

Gwaine let out a bark of laughter. "We won't need to cook, mate! The food will come to us."

Merlin's little eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yep," Gwaine nodded, stressing the 'p' with a pop of his lips. "Just watch princess work his magic."

Merlin's brow furrowed. "There's a magical princess in the castle? Is she your sister Arthur?"

The knights roared with laughter while Arthur glared pointedly at Gwaine. "No, Merlin. Gwaine's being an idiot."

Setting Merlin down in the chair on his right, Arthur went to the door and asked for several plates of food to be brought to his chambers.

Gwaine, sitting next to Merlin, nudged him lightly in the side. "See, told you he'd work his magic."

Merlin blinked, confused. "Arthur's the princess? But he's not a girl."

It was the one time in his life that Merlin could insult him by calling him a girl and he hadn't. How bizarre. Arthur glowered as the knights snickered over Merlin's confusion.

"It's a nickname Gwaine has for Arthur," Guinevere explained.

"Oh," said Merlin, eyes lighting with understanding, "like how I call Arthur a prat?"

"And I call you an idiot," Arthur replied, ruffling the boy's hair.

"But I'm not!" Merlin protested, trying to flatten the locks knocked askew unsuccessfully.

"And I'm not a prat," Arthur said.

"Yes you are," Gwaine and Merlin said at the same time.

The room erupted in a fit of laughter which continued until a couple of servants entered with their meals. Merlin's eyes were as wide as saucers as the food was placed before him.

"Wow!" he exclaimed. "This is more food than I've seen in my entire life!"

The servants shared amused smiles at the boy's antics. Filling everyone's goblets with wine – except for Merlin's which was filled with water – they departed, leaving the group to their meal; Arthur made sure to give them instructions to prepare the chambers next door before they left. Merlin didn't seem to know where to start. His little eyes surveyed his plate loaded with meat, cheese, bread, and a variety of vegetables.

"Well, go on then," Arthur encouraged, "it's not going to leap off your plate into your mouth you know."

With one last eager look at Arthur, Merlin dug in, first grabbing the bread and taking a huge bite. His eyes closed in ecstasy and the adults couldn't help chuckling. It didn't take long for the small boy to devour everything on his plate and soon after he began rubbing his eyes. When a large yawn escaped him, Arthur caught Guinevere's eye. She smiled.

"Merlin, I think it's time for you to go to sleep," she said.

Merlin shook his head stubbornly. "I'm not tired."

"Really?" Arthur teased, "Then why are you yawning?"

"I'm n-n-n-ot!" Merlin protested again, mid-yawn.

"You're a terrible liar, mate," Gwaine chuckled.

Arthur stood up. "Come on, you're going to bed."

"No," Merlin griped, remaining firmly planted in his chair. Arthur seized him under his arms and bodily removed him from his seat. "Hey!" he complained, tiredly struggling for all of two seconds before giving up and resting his head on Arthur's shoulder.

The knights and Guinevere watched in silent shock as they saw a side to their king they had never seen before. Arthur's countenance was tender as he glanced down at his sleeping manservant. Unaware of their stares, he quietly chuckled and patted the back of Merlin's head before carrying him from the room. Wandering down to the chambers next to his, Arthur entered to find a fire already going in the hearth, the bedspread turned down, and a little night shirt prepared on top of the blankets.

Arthur gently laid Merlin down and began removing his boots and clothes, tossing them onto the floor. "You know, you should be the one doing this yourself," he muttered quietly but without malice, "Having a king remove your boots, Merlin – shameful!"

"Shut up… clotpole," Merlin replied sleepily.

Arthur froze. The comment sounded so much like _his_ Merlin that it left him stunned. A five year old wouldn't know to call him that, surely? Well, a normal five year old probably wouldn't call anyone a prat, either. Perhaps this was Merlin shining through his younger self? Arthur tried to ignore the pain he felt realizing that his best friend was trapped somewhere in that five year old mind. He would seek out the druids tomorrow, if his schedule permitted it. This couldn't go on. He needed his Merlin back.

Helping the small boy into his night shirt, Arthur lifted him again before pulling the blankets up to his chin. He rested a hand on Merlin's head and softly ruffled his blonde locks, silently wishing they were black.

"Idiot," he muttered affectionately.

"Prat," Merlin responded, eyes closed, voice soft.

Arthur bit his lip. He was _not_ going to cry! One word could _not_ have that kind of effect on him! Taking a steadying breath, he gazed upon his little manservant one more time before heading for the door. He paused, looking back.

"Sleep well, Merlin," he whispered.

The little boy rolled over, his head burrowing further into his pillow. With one last affectionate smile, Arthur left the room and if he hastily removed a tear from his eye, nobody was there to notice.

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 **Reviews please? Next chapter will be posted soon. Maybe I'll even give it to you before next week! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks for all the reviews guys! They really mean the world to me! I forgot to put up a disclaimer last chapter - sorry about that - so here it is.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin**

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04: Facing One's Fears

Arthur woke the next day to a soft scuttling noise near his closet. Lifting his head a fraction, he squinted against the offensive sunlight streaming through the open windows to see George laying a tunic and a pair of breeches over his partition. Arthur inwardly cursed. Of all the servants that had to replace Merlin while he was 'away' it had to be George?! The universe must hate him.

The pretentious servant, noticing him stir, strode across the room and greeted him with the most formal bow he could muster. "Good morning, sire," he said cheerfully. "I have taken the liberty to polish your armor, put away your laundry, and sharpen your effects."

"Thank you," Arthur muttered, rubbing his face.

"I have also brought you your breakfast but…" George faltered, unsure how to continue as he stared across the room.

Frowning, Arthur followed his gaze which happened to land on his desk. The first thing he noticed was that his chair was occupied by someone much too small to fit into it, the second, that the plate George had brought up was missing one of Arthur's favorite foods, and the third, that two tiny hands were holding said favorite food half-consumed.

Flinging the covers aside, Arthur's eyes flashed dangerously on the little boy who had the classic look of one being caught in the act. Merlin smiled hesitantly but Arthur refused to curb his disapproval with that act of charm. Sensing the tense atmosphere, George cleared his throat and Arthur gazed wordlessly at him.

"I told him it wouldn't be wise to eat your breakfast, sire, but he wouldn't listen," the servant rapidly explained.

"For some reason that doesn't surprise me," Arthur muttered under his breath before loudly adding, "Thank you, George. That will be all."

"But I am not finished with my duties."

"You can come back later," said Arthur, shooing the man away.

Bowing deeply, George reluctantly took his leave. The second the door was closed Arthur turned back to Merlin with a disapproving scowl and folded arms.

"What've you got there?" he asked.

Merlin's mouth was full of sausages. "Nuff-ing," he said around the large amount of food.

"Merlin, are those _my_ sausages?" The little boy shook his head. Arthur's eyes narrowed as he drummed his fingers against his bicep. "Really? Is that not _my_ breakfast?"

Merlin looked down at the plate he'd already half-consumed before swallowing and glanced up at Arthur with a nervous grin. "Maybe…?"

" _Mer_ lin!" Arthur complained, "Didn't you have your own breakfast brought to your chambers?"

"Yeah but I ate it all and I was still hungry," the boy muttered.

"So you thought you could just sneak into my room and have mine?"

Merlin shrugged and the king had to take several deep breaths to reel in his temper. Some may think this behavior was childish but those who did weren't royalty. Breakfast was a sacred ritual, one required in order to properly start the day, and Arthur needed to work on a full stomach in order to cope with the challenges that were sure to beset him! And Merlin – that no good thief! – had tainted this custom!

"Merlin," he said, his expression stern, "I don't want you to ever eat my breakfast again. Do you understand?"

Merlin's eyes filled with mischief and he reached forward before popping a grape into his mouth. Arthur watched in disbelief. Weren't children supposed to do what they were told? Merlin had deliberately disobeyed him! That cheeky little…

"Try it again," Arthur dared, his eyes narrowing.

Caught in a staring match, neither moved, Arthur refusing to blink as he tensed for attack. His eyes began to water while Merlin fidgeted back and forth. Then, quick as lightning, Merlin snatched up the last sausage and stuffed it into his mouth.

"Oi!" Arthur shouted, running around the table.

Merlin bolted, slipping from the chair and crawling under the desk to dive head first under Arthur's bed.

"Oh, no you don't!" Arthur growled, managing to ensnare Merlin's booted feet within a tight grasp before they could fully disappear. Dragging the boy out from under the bed, Arthur fought to keep his hold while Merlin squirmed, giggling and attempting to wrestle himself free. "I'll teach you to steal from your king!" Arthur laughed as he rolled over and pinned Merlin to the floor, lying on top of him.

Merlin's protest was muffled, his face squished under the king's larger build. _"Arfer!"_

"What was that, _Merlin?"_ Arthur grinned, poking the boy in the side.

Merlin immediately squirmed under him, letting out a gasp of giggles. Realizing he'd found a ticklish spot, Arthur attacked without mercy. A scream of protest escaped the boy's lips followed by bursts of laughter and shouted demands that the king let him go. The little guy had a surprising amount of strength as he finally managed to fight his way out from under Arthur's girth. Thus ensued a small wrestling match as king and little warlock rolled about on the floor, each fighting for victory. Arthur eventually managed to pin Merlin down by the arms, looming over him in triumph on the floor.

"I win," he huffed, grinning like a madman.

"I let you," Merlin answered before sticking out his tongue, his tiny chest heaving for need of air.

Someone snickered near the door and Arthur looked up, finally noticing the Round Table Knights that had gathered in his chambers. Had they just seen him play with Merlin? From the smirks of amusement he easily deduced the answer to _that_ question.

Frowning, Arthur demanded, "And just how long have you four been standing there?"

"Oh, long enough," Gwaine chuckled. "I think Merlin's right though, Arthur, he let you win."

Scowling, the king released the small sorcerer who rolled out from underneath him and looked up at the knights with a hesitant smile. "Hello," he said as Arthur ruffled his hair.

"Good morning, Merlin," said Percival with a grin.

Arthur sat down at his desk and scowled. That little runt had eaten every sausage and half his meat! Making a mental note to have the cooks double Merlin's meal portions, the king stabbed into the remaining slices of meat and observed the list George had left concerning his duties for the day. It was surprisingly short. He had training with the knights right after breakfast and then a boring council meeting after that. Surprised but pleased, Arthur decided this provided the perfect opportunity for him to spend the afternoon seeking out the druids.

"May I ask what all of you are doing here when you should be heading to the training field with the rest of the knights?" Arthur asked.

"We wondered if you wanted a couple of us to sit out on the practice due to the special duties you assigned yesterday," Leon answered.

Arthur considered them a moment before making a decision. "Elyan, you can see to my uncle. As for Merlin – Merlin, what are you doing?"

The little boy froze, his small hands fisted around Arthur's red cape which he appeared to be trying to tie unsuccessfully around his neck. "Nothing."

Arthur raised an amused brow. "Really? Because it looks like you're trying to wear something that clearly doesn't fit you."

The boy fiddled with the clasp a moment longer before it clicked into place. Then, with a dignified air, he said, "Why can't I have a cape too, Arthur? All of you have one."

The knights chuckled as Arthur stood up and crossed the room. "Only knights wear capes, Merlin," he said, removing the item and setting it back on the table next to the armor that George had laid out.

The boy's face fell and he inched away from the cape as if he'd been burned. "Never mind, I don't want one."

Arthur's heart stung a little. For his entire life he had always wanted to don a cape and become a knight. Though deep down he was glad that Merlin didn't want to be one – the occupation brought on way too many injuries for someone so scrawny – he was still hurt by the boy's apprehension to what he viewed as the greatest fighters the world had ever known.

"Merlin, knights are not bad," he emphasized again.

The little boy looked distrustful. "Yes they are!"

"But we're knights," Gwaine pointed out, "Including Arthur."

The boy quickly tried to rephrase his opinion. "Well, you're different! You don't hurt people."

"Knights don't hurt others, Merlin," said Leon, "they protect them."

Merlin shook his head. "I've seen what knights do. They come into the village and break things! They set homes on fire, take our food and money, and hit anyone who tries to fight back. They also catch people like me! They found a sorcerer hiding in someone's house once. They dragged him outside, tied him up, and took him away! It was horrible!" he cried.

Arthur realized that Merlin was not necessarily speaking about the knights of Camelot but the knights of Essetir. It didn't surprise him that Cenred's men were vulgar and undignified. No wonder Merlin was wary; not only did he have to fear them because of his magic but also because of their blatant abuse of power.

"Merlin, my knights are completely different from the ones you've described," Arthur assured. "None of them would dare to do such atrocious acts and I won't let any of them hurt you in any way."

The little boy looked up at Arthur for further reassurance. "Really?"

"Really. Say, why don't you come with me to the practice field? You can meet the other knights and see some action."

"I don't know if that's the best idea, sire," voiced Elyan.

"Merlin needs to be exposed to knights in order to get over this fear he has of them," Arthur countered. "If something were to happen, I can't have him be afraid of my men."

The others could see the logic behind this statement and each reluctantly agreed.

That was how, twenty minutes later, Arthur found himself practically dragging a very terrified Merlin onto the training grounds where over fifty knights were currently gathered, stretching, sparring, or observing other fighters. Merlin's hand clenched the king's so tightly that Arthur was afraid he was soon going to lose all the feeling in his fingers.

"Arlin, relax," he coaxed.

Trembling, Merlin bit his lip between his teeth. "I don't think I can do this," he muttered as they drew closer to Sirs Brodric and Owen.

"Yes you can," Arthur stated while giving his arm a slight tug.

Merlin stumbled on his tiny booted feet but righted himself after three more steps. "Arthur!" he complained, "That wasn't fair!"

The king chuckled lightly. Ignoring the fact that every knight had ceased their activities to stare at the little visitor, Arthur guided Merlin over to a bench and lifted him onto it. Several swords and maces rested nearby along with a stack of shields.

"Now, under no circumstances are you to touch _anything_ ," Arthur warned, wagging his finger at the small boy.

Merlin's eyes glanced at the shield sporting the famous Pendragon crest. "Can't I touch that?"

"No, Me – I mean – Arlin," Arthur said, quickly correcting himself. "That shield is twice your size."

"I could lift it!" Merlin protested.

"Arlin," Arthur warned, his gaze narrowing.

Tiny shoulders slumped in defeat. "Okay, I won't touch anything. But what am I supposed to do?"

"Sit there and watch," Arthur instructed, "and if any of the knights should come over to talk to you, you are to talk back."

Merlin's eyes widened in horror. "Do I have to?"

"Yes," Arthur said in a tone that brooked no argument. "This fear of knights has to change, Arlin. I promise that none of them are going to hurt you. Just remember what we talked about earlier."

Merlin nodded before making the same hand motions that usually accompanied the mantra regarding his secret.

"Good," Arthur praised. Ruffling the little blonde locks, he started making his way towards where his befuddled knights were standing.

"Arthur?"

The king turned round at the small warlock's call. "Yes?"

"Don't go too far away," Merlin pled, his eyes reflecting his inner fear.

Smiling fondly, Arthur walked back over to him and knelt down. Taking both his shoulders, he made sure Merlin was looking right into his eyes. "I'm never going to leave you, Merlin," he quietly whispered. "I'm just going to be right over there," he pointed to a spot not even twenty feet away.

"Promise?"

"Promise," Arthur assured. "And, if you're good, I just might have the cooks bring up a bowl full of berries for you."

Merlin's eyes shown. "Berries? Really?" he asked excitedly.

Arthur chuckled at his enthusiasm before schooling his features into a more serious expression. "Only if you stay here and do as I've asked."

"Okay!" Merlin said with a fervid nod. "I won't move from this spot!"

Patting his shoulder one more time, Arthur twisted around. The knights were staring at him open-mouthed. Arthur inwardly cursed. He'd just acted like a completely sentimental fool in front of his men! This was _not_ okay. What was this little version of Merlin doing to him?!

Striding forward, he shouted in his most authoritative voice, "Is this how the knights of Camelot spend their practice time? Gaping like fish? Carry on! Sirs Bedivere and Gareth with me!"

The two knights strode forward as the other men leapt back into action; though it didn't escape Arthur's notice that many kept glancing at the little boy sitting determinedly on the bench. Forcing his thoughts away from Merlin, Arthur pulled his sword from his belt and got into a defensive stance.

"You know the drill, gentlemen," he replied.

"Yes, sire," they both responded, crouching slightly as well.

And so the sparring began. It was a good warm up. Arthur easily disarmed Sir Gareth after the first five blows but Sir Bedivere, who had always been excellent with a sword, held his own for another twenty strokes before Arthur successfully disarmed him.

Sudden clapping filled the field and Arthur looked over to find Merlin grinning at him, his small hands smacking together. "I knew you could beat him!" he shouted, his excited voice echoing across the grounds and drawing the other knights' attention. Several men chuckled before returning to their sparring.

"The boy has much faith in you, sire," Bedivere commented as the king helped him back to his feet.

"Indeed he does," Arthur replied.

"I hope you don't find me rude for asking, sire," began Gareth, "but is it true that you have taken him in as your ward?"

Arthur nodded, wiping sweat from his brow. "Yes, it's true."

"Forgive me, Arthur, I never thought of you as the type to take on such responsibility so young," teased Bedivere. The knight was the same age as Leon and had been one of the few to help train Arthur when he was still a lad.

"It would appear the princess has had a change of heart," teased Gwaine, striding over now that he'd successfully disarmed his opponent, Sir Ector.

"Why don't you stop chatting and get back to practicing, Gwaine?" Arthur asked with a slight frown. "You can take on Bedivere next. I have a rematch with Leon to win."

"You're still sore about that?" Gwaine called as Arthur started to walk away.

"Shut up, Gwaine!" Arthur called over his shoulder.

It had been a misstep on Arthur's part. He'd looked away for one moment but that was all it took for Leon to disarm him. The older man had apologized, a natural reaction to ousting a king, but Arthur had silenced him with a demanding look. His knights knew he didn't want them to treat him any differently than they did each other. For those of noble birth – the vast majority – this was a very difficult habit to break but Arthur was determined to make it so. His father may have thought it showing weakness but Arthur treated it as a disservice to himself. How could he measure his strength if others feared to give him their all and admit when they beat him?

Making sure to keep himself in Merlin's sights, Arthur located Sir Leon and waited until he was finished fighting against Sir Pelleas. The latter redhead had improved remarkably over the years. Arthur remembered fighting against him briefly in the melee; he'd held his own then and was certainly doing so with Leon now. Leon was still the best swordsman –next to Arthur and Gwaine, of course – but Sir Pelleas was definitely giving the man a good fight. The two danced around, their swords striking heavily against each other many times before Leon managed to twist his opponent's blade from his grasp.

"Well done," Arthur praised causing both men to greet him with a warm smile.

"Sire," Sir Pelleas acknowledged between panting and wiping the sweat from his face.

"You've greatly improved," Arthur commented. "I can see that your left arm still needs a little bit of work. It isn't wise to have one arm stronger than the other."

"I'll work harder, sire," the young knight promised.

Arthur clapped him on the shoulder before turning to Leon. "I take it you know why I'm here?"

Leon nodded. "I'm ready when you are, sire."

Arthur twisted his blade – his signature move – before crouching forward. With a nod, he sprung into action and Leon wasted no time countering the blow. It always was refreshing to fight with someone who had the same skill level as him. Arthur felt his muscles strain, bend, and move with fluid precision, the thrill of it all exciting him and causing his strikes to double in strength. His feet danced about in time with Leon's as each man gave it their all, enjoying every moment of the intricate fight. They soon drew a crowd; they always did. It was a rare treat to see the king spar with his First Knight. Seized in the moment, Arthur didn't realize that the circle surrounding them had cut him off from Merlin's view so he was completely caught off guard when his ears picked up on the little boy's panicked scream.

" _ARTHUR!"_

The terror heard in that small voice jarred the king like nothing ever had, Arthur freezing in place at the same time his heart stopped. Leon's sword slammed into his, knocking it from his grasp, but Arthur didn't care. Merlin needed him. Abandoning his sword and position, he didn't spare Leon a second thought as his legs began to carry him towards the only thing that mattered. The knights made a gap for him but before Arthur took another step a tiny form raced through the opening of legs. Crying all over the place, Merlin's little arms wrapped around Arthur's knees as he continued to sob uncontrollably. The small boy was positively petrified. Beyond confused, Arthur pried Merlin from his legs and hoisted him into his arms. Merlin instantly clung to his armor, his head burrowing into the king's neck.

"Is he okay?" asked Sir Kay hesitantly.

"Me-Arlin," Arthur corrected - inwardly berating himself for almost letting slip the boy's real name - "what's wrong?"

"I couldn't see you!" Merlin wailed.

The king's eyes softened and, though he wasn't aware of it, his men were once again astounded that this small boy had such an effect on their sovereign. Arthur patted Merlin's head with a gloved hand. "I didn't go anywhere."

"But I couldn't _see_ you!" Merlin repeated.

"Can you see me now?"

Merlin slowly leaned back enough to stare into Arthur's eyes. "Yes." He assessed him further and the relief Arthur saw in his eyes touched him as he continued, "You're okay." He seemed to be trying to reassure himself. "You're okay," he repeated. "You are okay, right?"

Arthur raised an amused brow. "Of course I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I couldn't see you," Merlin reiterated as if that explained why he would fear for the king.

Arthur was just about to demand for a further explanation when it finally clicked. Remembering Merlin's fear of knights and his nightmares, Arthur realized that the poor boy probably saw the other knights slowly gathering around him as a threat.

Letting out a sigh, Arthur set Merlin down and got on one knee, the knights still gathered in a large circle around them. "Arlin, remember what I told you about the knights?"

Merlin swallowed and nodded.

Arthur stood up and gestured around the gathered group. "These are my friends, my knights. They're loyal, brave, kind, and true. They would never hurt you or me. Knights of Camelot, this is Arlin, my ward. He had some negative experiences with men claiming to be knights before joining us. I trust that each of you will do your utmost to prove to him what the title of knight truly means as he continues to live here in Camelot."

Gwaine sent Merlin a wink, causing him to smile hesitantly. Sir Bedivere slowly broke away from the circle and Merlin tensed. Arthur squeezed his shoulder, silently commanding him to relax.

Bedivere stopped and held out a friendly hand. "It's nice to meet you, Arlin," he said. "I'm Sir Bedivere."

Merlin looked at Arthur who encouraged him with a nod. A small hand reached outward and shook the knight's. "I'm Arlin. It's nice to meet you too," he said quietly.

"I'm sorry we scared you," Bedivere said while several of the other knights nodded in agreement. "We didn't mean to."

"That's okay," Merlin answered before cheekily adding, "I suppose you can't help being big and scary with all that armor on."

There was a collective laugh and soon other knights came forward to introduce themselves. Though he stayed right at Arthur's side, Merlin's shyness and uncertainty melted away and he found himself opening up to the knights, asking them the most random questions like what their favorite colors were and if they could talk to any animal what would it be and why. By the time Arthur had to leave to get ready for his council meeting he had to practically drag Merlin away from the other men.

"Do we have to go?" he asked reluctantly. Sir Gareth had been in the middle of retelling a time when he, Arthur, and several others had fought against bandits on a patrol.

"If you want to stay," Arthur began. But Merlin leapt to his feet and rushed to his side, fiercely grabbing his hand. Arthur chuckled. "Well then, let's be off. Leon, make sure to whip these sentimental fools into shape for another hour."

"You're the biggest fool of all of us, princess," Gwaine called.

Arthur glared at him while several of the men snickered. Ignoring them, Arthur tugged lightly on Merlin's hand. "Come on, Arlin," he said.

"Bye!" Merlin waved.

As the two of them trudged back into the castle, Merlin chattered endlessly about how much he liked the knights and how amazing Arthur was with a sword. The king didn't mind the praise, grinning widely as Merlin continued to give a play by play of what he'd seen when Arthur had fought against Bedivere and Gareth. As the two entered the king's chambers, Arthur was vaguely aware that they had been tidied. George must have come back once the king had left to train. He also must have just recently left the room because a bath, steaming with warm water, was already waiting for him.

Arthur began stripping off his armor – until he realized that he was going to need some help with a few of the buckles.

Merlin noticed him straining to grasp the straps just out of reach. "Can I help?" he asked from where he'd plopped himself at the foot of Arthur's bed.

Arthur frowned. "I don't know if you'll be able to figure it out, Merlin. You might tangle them up."

"Even more than what you've already done?" the boy asked with a teasing grin.

"Oh, shut up," Arthur snapped. After another moment of struggle, he growled in frustration. "Alright, fine, maybe you can give it a go."

Merlin leapt off the bed with an excited air, rushing over and climbing onto a chair so he was high enough to reach. Arthur felt himself tense, ready to catch the idiot if he began to fall. Merlin's little tongue slipped between his teeth as he examined the straps. Nodding once to himself, he glanced up at Arthur.

"Can I?" he asked.

"Can you what?"

"Use magic," he answered. "You said I couldn't use it unless I asked you first. I think I can figure out how to unbuckle everything but I haven't used magic yet today. Mommy says in order for me to remain healthy I should use it at least once a day."

Arthur glanced at the door before nodding, "Alright, go on then."

A huge grin split Merlin's face and his eyes flashed gold. The straps came undone but instead of the armor falling with a crash onto the floor, it floated over to the table. Right after it removed itself, the chainmail began to lift off the king's body. Raising his arms, Arthur immediately felt lighter as the chainmail passed over his head, flipped itself right-side out with a loud jangling sound, and rested on the table next to the armor. Assessing the large pieces littered on the surface, Merlin lifting his hand and his eyes flashed one last time. Arthur's jaw dropped as the metal instantly started to shine.

 _So_ that's _how he's always able to make it look so good!_ The king inwardly realized. It had been one of Merlin's unique gifts, making his armor shine brighter than any other man's. The lazy idiot had been using magic to polish his armor this whole time! Arthur had half a mind to reprimand him for it but stopped himself.

Was it vanity admitting that he actually _liked_ the fact that his armor shone better than anyone else's?

Yes. Yes, it was.

A scowl began to line his face. He was the king. He had every right to look the best! After all, he was the head of all his knights; he had to be the ultimate example. As he thought this over, Arthur supposed that this one small act of magic could be overlooked once the opportunity arrived to question Merlin concerning everything else.

"Arthur?"

"Yeah?" the king wondered, pulling away from his inner thoughts to stare at the little manservant currently touching his armor.

"Do you have more than one Court Sorcerer?" Merlin asked, his tone slightly hurt as well as curious.

Arthur frowned. "No, you're the only one, Merlin. Why?"

"There's magic in your armor," the little boy answered. " _Lots_ of magic!"

Arthur began to panic. "You can't be serious!"

Merlin shook his head. "It's not bad. It's warm… safe…" he grinned, turning back to Arthur. "Someone with magic is protecting you, Arthur! That makes me happy. They must really care about you."

Arthur blinked. He didn't know what to say. It was oddly touching, knowing that Merlin had placed protective enchantments into his armor. He found himself wanting to thank the man but he couldn't. Not yet.

And how _frustrating_ that was! There was so much he wanted to say and yet he had to hold back because currently Merlin wouldn't understand. How he prayed that the druids would be able to help him! But he had to go to a stupid council meeting first before he could seek them out. Speaking of council meetings, he needed to bathe. Shrugging out of his jacket and shirt, he bent down to remove his boots.

"What are you doing?" Merlin asked.

"I have to take a bath, Merlin," he answered, inclining his head towards the large tub of water. "I have a council meeting to attend and I can't very well go there smelling like I've been in my armor all morning."

"Wow, you have your own tub?" Merlin cried, fascinated.

"Of course, don't you?"

Merlin shook his head. "Only rich people have tubs, Arthur. Mommy usually scrubs me down with a wet rag and a bucket. On rare days, though, we'll go to the stream! I like when we do that."

Arthur stared. The concept of not having a tub was completely foreign to him. He watched as Merlin slipped from the chair and wandered over to the large basin. He tentatively dipped his fingers into the water and gasped.

"It's warm!" he said, turning back to Arthur with shining eyes.

"Of course it is," Arthur scoffed.

Merlin suddenly shuffled his feet. "Can I have a bath too?"

Arthur froze. Merlin was obviously implying that he wanted to get in with him but there were just some things Arthur wasn't willing to do. There was no way he was sharing a bath with Merlin. That was crossing the line on so many levels! But he looked so hopeful…

Perhaps Merlin could bathe first? Then Arthur could have him change out the water with magic so it was clean again for him to use. The king glanced at a marked candle. He still had an hour before he had to be in the council chambers. Sighing, he looked up at those longing blue eyes and gave in.

"Alright, you can go first."

"Yay!"

And before Arthur could say another word the boy had stripped down to nothing and managed to leap into the tub. Water splashed everywhere all over his discarded clothes.

"Merlin!" Arthur protested, rushing forward to rescue the garments from further splashing.

A pair of apologetic blue eyes poked out from the edge of the tub. "Sorry Arthur," Merlin mumbled.

Now in nothing but trousers, the king shook his head, returning to the tub's edge and glaring down at his little sorcerer. "Alright, you've got ten minutes," he said.

"Arthur," Merlin called because the king was moving away to sit down at the table. Arthur looked back at him with a raised brow. Merlin's cheekbones tinged pink. "What am I supposed to do now?"

Arthur groaned. Really? Merlin honestly had no idea how to bathe himself? "Haven't you ever bathed yourself before?"

"Not in a tub," Merlin frowned. "Mommy usually just dunks my head with a bucket of water and scrubs me down with a towel."

Rolling his eyes at how hopelessly lost the boy seemed to be, Arthur walked back over, got on his knees and picked up a bottle.

"You use this to wash your hair," he instructed before putting it down to pick up a different bottle. "This one is for your body."

Merlin frowned. "Do I use all of it?"

" _No!"_ Arthur snapped, frustrated. This was so awkward it was ridiculous. Did he seriously have to do this?

Merlin shrunk away, his little body lowering further in the water. "Sorry," he mumbled, his eyes downcast.

Sighing resignedly, Arthur picked up the first bottle. "Come here, Merlin," he gently coaxed. The little boy scurried back over. "Turn around," Arthur instructed. He immediately did as asked.

How odd it was for Merlin to actually obey! Locking this away as blackmail he could use later, Arthur poured a little of the bottle's concoction into his palm and started working on Merlin's hair. Lathering the wet locks, Arthur made sure to scrub every inch of Merlin's head. Then he grinned wickedly. Picking up a bucket, he scooped it into the tub before dumping the contents out on Merlin's unsuspecting head.

"Arthur!" Merlin complained, thrashing about, coughing slightly.

The king laughed, avoiding the splashing water Merlin tried to throw at him – until the boy used magic to send a stream of liquid right into his face.

"Merlin!" he shouted, wiping water from his eyes. The youth grinned triumphantly until Arthur rushed forward and dunked him. He didn't hold him under the water, of course, allowing Merlin to resurface instantly, coughing and spluttering about.

"That wasn't fair!" Merlin complained.

"No, what isn't fair is using magic to splash water into your king's face," Arthur playfully retorted, poking Merlin's nose.

The boy stuck his tongue out at him. Arthur chuckled fondly before reaching for the second bottle on the ground. "Right, you've been in there long enough already. Hold out your hands." – Merlin surprised him again by doing exactly that – "I'm only going to give you a little bit. Rub your hands together and then rub them all over your body, okay?"

"Okay," Merlin answered.

Arthur poured a sufficient amount into Merlin's small palms before the boy did as instructed. Merlin following orders; this was definitely surreal. It didn't particularly bother Arthur, considering the circumstances, but he didn't want it to become a habit either. Merlin exclaimed he was finished and then Arthur told him to sit down in the water and rub his body again to get the substance off. The little boy happily sat and scrubbed.

"Am I done now?" Merlin wondered as Arthur inspected an arm.

"I think so," Arthur answered after checking his hair as well.

"Awww," Merlin complained, "but that means I have to get out."

"Yes it does," said Arthur. "I still need to take mine, you know."

He hoisted Merlin out of the tub and set him dripping on the floor. The boy let out a shiver as Arthur reached for a towel and began rubbing his hair dry before proceeding to wrap it around his tiny body.

"You can finish drying off yourself, can't you?" he asked with a teasing poke to Merlin's chest.

"Of course I can," Merlin huffed.

"Good," Arthur said, "but before you do, can you replace the water?"

"What's wrong with it?" Merlin asked, confused.

"What's wrong is that you just used it."

"So?"

"Just fix the water, Merlin."

"But there's nothing wrong with it."

"Merlin!"

The little boy huffed. "Fine! You don't have to be such a prat about it."

Walking over to the water, he held out a hand and his eyes flashed gold. The dirt in the water disappeared, making it clear once more. It was also warm to usual perfection and Arthur silently wondered if Merlin always heated his water with magic. Stripping down and getting in, the king let out a contented sigh.

"Did I get it right?" Merlin asked.

"Perfect. Now, go get dressed."

Arthur peeked an eye open to see Merlin wandering over to the bed where his clothes were still covered in the towel. The king shook his head. He'd just helped Merlin bathe. How he prayed that the man wouldn't remember this when he was no longer cursed. It would be the worst blackmail imaginable. Well, at least he could tease Merlin about not having a clue on how to bathe in a tub!

Merlin was already dressed and sitting at the king's desk doodling on a spare piece of parchment by the time Arthur had finished and changed into fresh attire. Wandering over to where his warlock sat, Arthur peeked over his shoulder. Merlin had drawn a rather crude picture of two people, one tall and the other short. Some black scribbles were over the top of the tall person's head.

"Who's that?" he asked, pointing at the tall person.

"It's you," Merlin said, "can't you see the crown?"

"That's a crown?"

Merlin shoved him. "What else would it be, you prat?"

Arthur ruffled Merlin's hair. "A mess of scribbles, you idiot," he answered. "Now, come on, you can continue your attempt to draw later."

"Hey!" Merlin cried, insulted, as Arthur gathered him into his arms. "Where are we going?"

"I'm going to my meeting while you are going to stay with Guinevere for a while."

He'd decided that the knights schedule was probably fuller than Guinevere's; not to mention they'd already had their fill of Merlin distracting them this morning and he'd rather not have them shirking any more of their duties. He found Guinevere a while later with a basket of laundry in her arms. Though she was no longer required to perform such tasks, Guinevere told Arthur that she'd rather keep busy during the day than sit around like the other ladies at court gossiping about useless drivel.

"Guinevere," he called.

Her smile was wide as her gaze locked with his. "Arthur," she greeted, "are you on your way to the meeting?"

"Yes. I wondered if you could watch Arlin for me until it was over."

"I'd be happy to," Guinevere answered. "Hello, Arlin." She winked at him.

"Hi Gwen," Merlin smiled.

Arthur transferred Merlin over to Guinevere. "Be good," he ordered before stepping closer and kissing Guinevere full on the lips. "I'll come find you the second the meeting is done," he promised.

"We'll stay in the citadel," Guinevere assured, her cheeks tinged pink due to Merlin's giggles.

"Oh, shut up, Merlin," Arthur muttered before turning away.

"Come one then, Arlin," he heard Guinevere somewhere behind him, "let's go check out the library."

"Okay!" Merlin cried enthusiastically.

Arthur snorted. Even as a child Merlin's fascination with the written word was present. Arthur could never understand the appeal for having your nose stuck in some ancient boring text all day. Shaking his head, he made his way towards the council chambers, dread filling him with each step he took. He'd have to sit with his uncle at his immediate right for the duration of the meeting; not a very pleasant thought. Scowling, Arthur tried to create a mask that wouldn't betray his feelings towards his formerly trusted adviser. This was going to be a long discussion, he inwardly sighed.

[][][]

Several hours after the council meeting found Arthur wandering down the steps with Merlin in his arms to where the knights stood waiting next to their valiant steeds. Guinevere was at the base of the steps, slight worry in her eyes. The knights were not dressed in their usual chainmail and capes but rather plain clothing. They were just going for a simple ride after all – at least, that's what they told everyone. Arthur himself was wearing a plain blue tunic under a brown vest. He'd made sure to dress Merlin similarly, the boy wearing a regular red tunic with brown leather laced in a crisscross pattern in the collar.

"Be careful, Arthur," Guinevere pled quietly.

Keeping Merlin rested against his hip, Arthur leaned forward and kissed Guinevere's forehead. "We'll be back after nightfall," he promised.

"Do you really think it'll take that long?" she wondered.

Arthur had to choose his words carefully, seeing as there were many in the vicinity. "A long ride won't hurt and I wanted to show Arlin a fair amount of Camelot."

That was code for 'we have to travel a fair amount of Camelot in order to find a druid encampment'. Gaius hadn't been able to give any concrete information as to where the druids may be hiding. They didn't linger in one place for longer than a few months, he'd said. The last he'd heard, they were several leagues west of the Valley of the Fallen Kings. It was going to be a long ride and Arthur didn't anticipate returning to Camelot until the late hours of the evening. Not that he minded; that council meeting had been brutal and he was more than looking forward to being away from his uncle for the rest of the day.

Guinevere let out a sigh. "Take care then," she muttered. "But know that the lords will begin to worry should your absence continue through the night."

Arthur nodded to her. "Keep an eye on Agravaine for me," he whispered in her ear after kissing her cheek.

He'd made sure to instruct Gaius to keep a sharp eye too. He may be taking his most trusted knights but that didn't mean he was leaving the castle defenseless. Gaius and Guinevere could handle affairs while he was gone and he trusted Sir Bedivere, second in command next to Leon, to keep the latter safe. The man himself was standing not far off from the couple and when the king caught his eye, a mutual understanding passed between them.

Arthur hoisted Merlin into the saddle on his steed and the small boy leaned forward to pat the horse's neck. The brown gelding was called Acker, a horse built for traveling long distances, and he was one of Arthur's favorites. Climbing into the saddle behind Merlin, Arthur took the reins and gently guided the horse out of the courtyard, the knights following behind him.

"Arthur, where are we going?" Merlin asked as soon as they had left the city and entered the woods.

"We have to find some people, Merlin," Arthur answered. "There are some questions I need to ask them."

"Oh." – A moment's pause – "Will it take long to get there?"

Gwaine chuckled, "It just might, mate."

"Then we have time for you to tell me another story!" Merlin said excitedly, looking at the roguish knight with gleaming eyes.

"That we do," Gwaine grinned, catching Arthur's eye.

The king let out a sigh but gave his consent and thus began several hours of Gwaine's famous mindless chatter. As the tale about escaping Jarl's castle started – omitting Merlin's involvement, of course – Arthur tuned out what was being said and let his mind wander.

The afternoon sun spread through the forest bathing the foliage in a cheerful green glow. Birds sang happily from the trees, critters scurried about in the underbrush, and the fresh smell of earth permeated the air filling Arthur with a sense of contentment. This would have been the perfect day to go hunting. Arthur had to smile as he imagined what his Merlin would have looked like if he'd made that suggestion. He knew the man hated hunting. Killing for sport had never suited him but he accompanied Arthur anyway; the idiot was loyal to a fault.

Arthur looked down to see Merlin happily chatting away with the knights, telling them all about his adventures in the woods close to Ealdor. Arthur had to smirk when Merlin told of a time he'd tripped and fallen into a badger's den. _Only you, Merlin_ , he inwardly laughed.

"It wasn't very happy to see me," Merlin prattled on, "chased me right out of its hole all the way to the edge of the forest."

The knights laughed, caught up in the imagery.

"It was really scary!" Merlin protested, offended that they were laughing. "It was big and angry and –"

But the little boy stopped and Arthur couldn't blame him. At this point they had turned off the main road and were traveling through a smaller, diminished trail. They had just come around a bend only to find themselves face to face with a unicorn. The creature was magnificent, its white coat shining despite the limited sunlight fighting its way through the thick tree branches above. The large horn protruding from its head ended in a sharp point.

Arthur was taken back to the time he'd foolishly slain one of these noble creatures. He'd caused so much suffering to his people in his ignorance. Merlin had been so upset that he'd killed the beast and now Arthur had a better understanding as to why. Gaius had said Merlin was technically a creature of the Old Religion and so were unicorns. Could the two share some kind of magical connection?

"Wow," Gwaine whispered. "I've never seen a unicorn before."

Merlin seemed to be in a trance. "Arthur," he said vaguely, "can I…?"

Realizing that Merlin wanted to get down, Arthur kept his eye trained on the unicorn as he slowly lowered himself and then Merlin from the saddle. He made a silent motion for the knights to stay put; he didn't want to frighten the creature off. The second Merlin was on the ground, he walked confidently away from Arthur's side. The king had half a mind to call him back but found he was as spellbound as the knights. What was Merlin going to do?

The small boy approached the unicorn and then, to the amazement and disbelief of the other men present, the unicorn lowered itself into what could only be the equivalent of a bow for a horse. Merlin let out a delighted giggle as he returned the bow and stepped right up to the kneeling beast, running his hands against its cheeks.

"Hello there," Merlin greeted, stroking the unicorn's head down the middle. "I've never met one of you before. Mommy's told me stories; you're more beautiful than how she described you."

Arthur's mouth was on the ground. A unicorn was _bowing_ to Merlin. The king glanced at the others to find them in similar states of shock and surprise as himself. Arthur felt that something significant was occurring but he wasn't exactly clear as to what it might be. He'd never heard of a creature bowing to a man before, not that he knew much about unicorns anyway.

"It recognizes him as Emrys," an old voice spoke from somewhere to Arthur's left.

The knights immediately went for their swords but Arthur relaxed when he recognized the one who had spoken was the wizened man Anhora, keeper of the unicorns.

"Anhora," he acknowledged with a nod of his head. He had learned years ago to respect this man even if he was still a little wary of him.

"You have grown much since our last meeting, Arthur Pendragon," the old man said with a smile.

"You know this man?" asked Gwaine.

"Yes. He's the keeper of the unicorns," Arthur answered.

Though Elyan, Gwaine, and Percival hadn't been in Camelot when the plagues had occurred due to Arthur's foolishness, they knew the story. The knights relaxed their stance and acknowledged the old man respectfully.

Merlin, now aware that they had a visitor, wandered away from the unicorn to Arthur's side. Anhora smiled sadly at the small boy before lowering his head in what could only be reverence.

"Emrys," he said, "it is good to see you again. Forgive me for my ignorance the last time we met. I did not know who you were."

Merlin was puzzled. "I don't remember meeting you before."

"It was long ago," Anhora replied, "when you were much younger."

"Oh," Merlin answered before jumping when the unicorn's nose nuzzled into his side. "Hey!" he giggled, rubbing the unicorn's snout.

"He likes you," Anhora chuckled. "He recognizes the magical bond you share, Emrys."

"Really?" Merlin asked delightedly.

It hadn't escaped Arthur's attention that Merlin had responded to the name Emrys without thought. He silently wondered why that was. Merlin hated being called Arlin. Perhaps because the name of Emrys was also his real name, it didn't bother him? Arthur frowned, deciding to ask the boy about it later.

"King Arthur, you seek the druids," Anhora stated.

"How did you know?"

The old man merely smiled. "They can be found ten leagues from here, in that direction." He pointed northwest. "Hopefully they will be able to help you with the predicament you have found yourself in."

The knights all gazed off in the direction Anhora had pointed. When Arthur turned back to thank him, the old man was gone.

"Where did he go?" Leon asked, looking around.

Arthur scowled. "He has a habit of disappearing. Merlin, we'd best be on our way."

The little boy looked up at him reluctantly. "Do we have to?" he asked, patting the unicorn's neck.

"Yes," Arthur said. "You can play with the unicorn at a later time." He refrained from adding 'like a little girl.'

Sighing, Merlin took the unicorn's head in both his hands and rested his forehead just under the alarmingly sharp horn. Arthur watched curiously as Merlin muttered some unintelligible words before letting the unicorn go. The creature bowed its head to Merlin one last time before cantering off into the forest, disappearing amidst the trees.

"Bye!" Merlin called somewhat sadly.

"What did you just do, Merlin?" asked Percival while Arthur hoisted the boy back into Acker's saddle.

"I don't really know," Merlin said honestly. "I just felt like wanting to make sure it stayed safe."

"It almost looked like some kind of blessing," Gwaine opined while Leon nodded in silent agreement.

"Well, blessing or not, we'd best be on our way," said Arthur, spurring Acker onward right after he'd resettled behind Merlin. "Now that we know where the druids are, we should be able to reach them by nightfall."

"We're going to see the druids?" Merlin asked in excitement and wonder.

"Yes," said Arthur, unconsciously smiling at the boy's enthusiasm. "We thought you'd like to meet them."

"Mommy told me they're a magical people. Is that true?"

"It is," Arthur answered.

"Wow," Merlin whispered in utter fascination. "I've never been around other people with magic before. Well, nobody that I could talk to about it. Can I use my magic when we get there, Arthur? Please?"

Arthur tried to keep the smile from his face. Merlin was being quite adorable and the king was having great difficulty keeping his fondness hidden due to the boy's antics. "I'm sure there will be a time that you can, Merlin, but don't use it until I say it's alright."

"Okay," Merlin sighed, his little shoulders lowering a fraction. But then he perked up. "Will there be other kids like me?"

"Magical children you mean?" asked Elyan.

Merlin nodded. "Yeah."

"I'm sure there will be," said Percival.

"Will I be able to play with them?"

"If you're good," Arthur said.

"I'll be good!" Merlin promised, tilting his head back so Arthur could see his determined little face.

The king laughed despite himself. "I'm sure you'll try your best... Say, Merlin… there's something I wanted to ask you."

"What?"

"The old man, Anhora, he called you Emrys. That didn't seem to bother you. I just wondered… why is that?"

Merlin contemplated this a moment before he shrugged. "It just seems right."

"Oh," Arthur muttered, processing that answer.

Could this be another one of those times Merlin had subconsciously accepted something about his true self? Arthur hoped so. He missed his old friend terribly. This small Merlin was endearing but Arthur found the bond between them now was different to what he was used to. It wasn't unpleasant, just different, and Arthur found himself wanting the old one more than the new. Hopefully the druids would have the answer of how to fix all of this.

It wasn't until hours later when the sun had reached its lowest setting that the knights finally picked up on the sound of voices and children's laughter coming through the trees. Arthur pulled to a stop, jerking a dozing Merlin awake. The king steadied him with a reassuring hand before slipping from Acker's saddle, the knights doing the same.

The slight chill caused them to pull on the traveling cloaks they had brought. Arthur wrapped Merlin in a small blue one Guinevere had found at the market earlier that morning. Gazing at the little boy, Arthur came to a decision. If the druids were going help them, they had to recognize the boy they brought.

"Merlin, you can change your hair back to its normal color."

The little boy's eyes widened in surprise. "But, what about my secret identity?"

"You won't have to worry about that while we're with the druids," Arthur assured. "You'll need to change it back when we leave though, okay?"

"Okay," Merlin said, completely trusting in his king. With a flash of his eyes, the blonde locks quickly darkened to the ebony black of Merlin's true hair color.

Gwaine let out a small expletive. "Well, now I understand why you had him change it, princess," he muttered quietly.

Arthur smirked, relishing in the small victory of proving to Gwaine that he had made a right decision. Schooling his features, he faced his men. "Right, the druids are a peaceful people so we shouldn't bring our weapons into their encampment. We don't want to be seen as a threat. Obtaining their help is of the utmost importance. We don't want to give them a reason not to do so."

The knights were not at all comfortable with leaving all of their weapons behind but they did as their sovereign asked. Arthur couldn't blame them; he felt the same way. Walking into the unknown without a weapon of any kind was truly unsettling to him. But, then again, they weren't necessarily unarmed, were they, since Merlin was supposedly the most powerful sorcerer to ever live. Wait, had he seriously just thought of using Merlin as a means of protection? Arthur berated himself. How could he even think that?

 _Perhaps_ , said a small voice in the back of his mind, _it's because you now know Merlin has always been there protecting you?_

Arthur told the voice to shut up. After removing his sword – and the hidden dagger in his boot – the king took Merlin's hand and led him further into the woods. Merlin rubbed his tired eyes and yawned.

"Arthur, I'm hungry," he complained.

The king frowned. "Maybe the druids will give us something to eat later."

Merlin brightened at that. He almost started dragging Arthur forward in his excitement to get to the encampment but Arthur's grip was firm. Merlin may be excited but he and the others were very apprehensive. They were about to wander into a camp filled with sorcerers and, as complete hypocrites, ask for their help. Arthur knew the druids were peaceful but that didn't mean they'd readily offer their services to him. They had every reason to refuse. Well, if it came down to it, Arthur wasn't opposed to begging. Only for Merlin – and Guinevere – would he willingly get down on his knees, sacrificing his dignity as a king.

 _But, then again,_ he thought, looking down at his small sorcerer, _I would do just about anything for him._ With this in mind, Arthur squared his shoulders and gathered his courage, stepping out of the confines of the trees into full view of the druid camp.

* * *

 **Poor Arthur. He cares about Merlin so much he's willing to go into a camp swarming with sorcerers. What's going to happen? Well, you'll just have to find out next time, won't you? Speaking of next time, d** **ue to popular demand, I have decided that from now on I will be updating this story every five days! Aren't I nice? :) This means you'll be seeing another chapter from me before Christmas! Yay! So, if it's not asking too much, please leave a review. I do love your feedback after all. It makes me very happy and spurs me forward. ^^**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi everyone! Merry Christmas and Happy holidays! This is probably my most favorite chapter that I've written for this story and I'm so excited to share it with all of you - especially since I get to give it to you as a Christmas present! :D The scene at the end of this chapter is the one that inspired this fic. I've been wanting to share it with all of you since I started posting this story. Please DO NOT scroll to the bottom out of curiosity and read it out of context. It will lose its value if you do and I want you to get the full effect. It's one of my proudest moments in fanfiction writing. Okay, enough gushing about my favorite scene.**

 **Merry Christmas, enjoy the chapter, and as always: (disclaimer) I don't own Merlin.**

* * *

05: Finding Destiny

Fires crackled merrily scattered throughout a countless number of tents and cooking pots containing aromas of delicious stew wafted through the air making Arthur's mouth water. Children could be seen a ways off, laughing and chasing after what appeared to be a ball of light. An older woman sat in front of a tent close by, her lips moving while waving her finger in intricate circles, directing the light in a dance. Others sat around the various campfires, happily swapping stories while tending to their meals. A few women were wandering back from a nearby stream with baskets not in their hands but trailing along behind them in the air. Arthur even saw one old man whispering under his breath, whittling a piece of wood with magic.

Merlin let out a delighted giggle as he yanked on Arthur's arm and pointed to the ball of light. "Can I go play, Arthur? Can I?"

"Not yet, Merlin," Arthur answered, his fingers unconsciously tightening their hold around the young warlock's hand.

The blatant use of magic unnerved him and he wasn't comfortable with the idea of losing Merlin while amidst so many unknown sorcerers. Arthur wished that he wasn't so full of anxiety but a near thirty year conviction that magic was evil was hard to dismiss; he'd just barely discovered and accepted Merlin's magic but that was because he knew the man. Everyone in this encampment was foreign and not for a second would Arthur lie to himself about being at ease. He was grateful that the knights seemed to share his conviction, all of them unconsciously shuffling closer together.

"Now what?" whispered Gwaine.

Arthur frowned. The logical thing would be to seek out the leader of the encampment but that would mean having to venture further than the edge of the forest. Merlin was growing restless though.

"Arthur," he complained, yanking his hand.

The king's reprimand for tugging on his arm slipped from his mind when the camp turned very still. All ounces of magic dissipated in an instant and the druids began to stand, their gaze fixed on the knights location. Arthur swallowed. For a moment nobody moved and then a man in a long green cloak started making his way towards them. His hair was thick, toned with silver and gray, his eyes a soft grayish-blue, and his countenance friendly. Arthur recognized him briefly as the druid he'd taken the Cup of Life from over a year ago.

As he approached, Leon gasped quietly behind him. "Sire, that is the druid that healed me with the Cup."

Arthur glanced at Leon. "Then we owe him a debt."

Hope flared in the king's chest. If this man was willing to help a Camelot knight surely he would help the king?

The druid stopped a few feet away from them before dropping into a spectacular bow. What proceeded from his mouth surprised the king and the knights.

"Emrys," he said, straightening and staring down at Merlin respectfully, "you grace us with your presence."

Arthur's mouth dropped open. He knew that Gaius had said the Druids looked to Merlin as a king but it was another thing to witness it with his own eyes. Gwaine swore quietly behind him.

With childlike innocence, Merlin didn't even realize the magnitude of this druid's greeting towards him. "How do you know who I am?" he asked curiously.

The druid glanced up at Arthur and the knights before answering, "Our paths crossed many years ago, my lord."

"That old man in the woods said the same thing," Merlin muttered, puzzled. "I must have been three," he surmised, "I don't remember much from when I was three."

"You may now know the reason we're here," Arthur interjected before Merlin could prattle further.

The druid's gaze was deep but he remained respectful as he addressed the king. "The last time we met the occasion was not choice, Arthur Pendragon."

"I realize that and I'm sorry," Arthur said sincerely. "I know words will never make up for my actions towards your people but I come here now in need of help that I don't think I will be able to find elsewhere."

"You are seeking sorcerers," the druid guessed.

Arthur nodded, indicating to Merlin before glancing back at the man. "Will you help us?"

He couldn't hide the desperation in his tone but he didn't really care. This was probably his only chance to fix what had happened to his warlock and he was willing to do anything this man asked of him. He'd even attempt to sing if that was what was required! _A horrific notion_ , he thought.

"It would seem Destiny and Fate have decided to lend a hand," the druid said cryptically. "I am Iseldir, King Arthur, the chieftain of this clan. Sensing that you have no intention to harm us, we open our camp to you – though Emrys is always welcome," he added with a warm smile on the young boy who was looking curiously between him and Arthur.

Arthur and the knights visibly relaxed. "Thank you," said the king.

"Come; let us discuss your curious predicament." Iseldir motioned for them to follow before walking back to where the rest of the druids had gathered.

"Sire?" whispered Elyan, "Are you sure we can trust them?"

"They won't harm us, Elyan," Arthur answered. "Come on."

"Can I go play yet?" Merlin asked as they started to make their way towards the druids.

"Not yet, Merlin," Arthur answered. "I'll tell you when, okay?"

Merlin sighed in disappointment. "Okay."

Keeping hold of the little warlock, Arthur couldn't help notice the reverence in the druids' eyes as they cast their gaze upon Merlin. As they past, whispers of "Emrys" flowed from their lips as they lowered into steep bows. Merlin shifted uncomfortably, drawing closer to Arthur. He didn't like the attention at all. The king squeezed his hand comfortingly. Truth be told, he wasn't comfortable with all the attention Merlin was receiving either – though his unease was selfish because it was simply unusual for Merlin to be the center of praise instead of him.

Iseldir guided them towards a tent located in the center of the camp where a roaring fire set outside, crackling merrily under a pot of stew tended by a girl of about fifteen summers. She stopped her ministrations to curtsy to Merlin, her eyes wide with awe.

 _This is too bizarre,_ Arthur thought, perturbed. Never in his life would he have thought of _Merlin_ as some kind of royal. It was simply absurd! His clumsy, innocent, quick-witted Merlin, a royal? Never in a thousand lifetimes would Arthur be able to grasp the concept. The knights seemed to be having the same inner struggles, glancing at each other with pure disbelief while shaking their heads at the druids behavior towards the king's manservant.

His manservant, a king! Arthur suddenly felt understandably apprehensive. Here he was, a man who had for most of his life treated these people with distain, making their _king_ wash his dirty socks and muck out his stables! He wouldn't have been surprised if these people looked upon him with loathing and hate. Well, he was at their mercy now; they could easily do with him as they wished. Heck, he might even encourage them after how horribly he'd treated Merlin in the past. He'd said some pretty horrific things. Once more he couldn't fathom for the life of him why Merlin hadn't turned against him. Grateful as he was, Arthur desperately wanted to ask: _why?_

The inside of Iseldir's tent did not give any indication that he was the leader of these people. His abode was plain, a large rug spread over the ground, pillows resting about it in a gathered circle. A desk harboring books, parchment, and quills sat in the corner next to a cot covered in furs. Dried goods were nestled in baskets by the tent's entrance along with several bottles of potions and salves for medicinal purposes.

"Have a seat," he invited as he took a spot of rug on the ground.

Arthur and the knights settled down, Merlin resting in Arthur's lap and looking around the tent with wide eyes. Arthur wasn't sure why the boy was giving the place such a look of fascination.

Iseldir watched Merlin's movements with amusement. "I'm guessing you can sense the magic in the air, Emrys?"

Merlin jumped before shyly nodding. "It's _everywhere_ ," he said.

"Yes it is," Iseldir smiled. "Would you like to see some?" Merlin nodded vigorously and before Arthur could protest, the man's eyes burned a brilliant shade of gold as he muttered, _**"Swefe nu."**_

Merlin's eyes immediately drooped closed and the small boy slumped in Arthur's arms.

"Merlin!" Arthur cried in fear.

"What did you do?" Gwaine demanded.

"He is merely asleep," Iseldir explained calmly despite the murderous looks from the knights. "What we have to discuss is delicate and I assumed you would not want Emrys removed from your sight, Once and Future King."

Arthur blinked. He'd only ever heard Merlin and Gaius call him this. _The prophecies must be true then,_ he thought bitterly, not at all liking the idea of having such an impossible destiny.

"You will wake him when we are done with our discussion," Arthur said. It wasn't a request.

"Of course," Iseldir sincerely promised. "I would never dream of harming Emrys, King Arthur. He is the hope of my race."

"I still can't believe that Merlin of all people is your king," Arthur muttered, shaking his head.

"I thought Gaius was pulling my leg," said Gwaine, "but after what I just saw…"

Iseldir gazed fondly at Merlin who was currently curled up in Arthur's arms, one little hand wound tightly into the king's shirt. "Emrys is a remarkable man. Even as a child his power is great."

"But he can't stay like this," Arthur protested. "Please, you must know of a way to remove the spell!"

Iseldir frowned in concentration. "I will have to examine him," he said, "if you will allow me?"

Arthur was rather reluctant to move the slumbering warlock but if Iseldir could help… he nodded his consent.

"Set him down on the cot," Iseldir instructed.

Using his remarkable skills as a warrior, Arthur stood without jostling Merlin and carried him over to the bed. He had to pry the boy's fingers from his tunic; Merlin really didn't want to let go. He seemed to turn towards Arthur as the king stepped back, drawn to the other side of his coin even in sleep. Arthur fixed Iseldir with a hopeful glance and the druid chieftain set to work hovering his hands over Merlin's body while muttering some gibberish the king couldn't understand. The knights gathered behind the king, all of them watching while silently hoping Iseldir would be able to fix what had happened to their little friend.

Arthur's anxiety had reached an apex as the seconds turned into minutes. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Iseldir lowered his hands and wearily stepped back.

"Well?" Arthur demanded. He knew he was being rude but his worry dictated his mood, bringing impatience with it.

Iseldir sighed, running a hand through his thick gray hair. Arthur vaguely realized the man appeared to be drained, as if he'd toiled all day in the fields. Wandering away from Merlin, the druid sank down onto the rug dejectedly. Arthur's heart filled with dread.

"This is a powerful enchantment, King Arthur," he groaned, "performed by a man whose magic is stronger than what I possess."

"What are you saying?" asked Arthur, his voice hoarse.

"I cannot break it," Iseldir confessed.

Gwaine swore despairingly, Percival's shoulders sagged, Elyan sadly looked at Merlin as if Iseldir had proclaimed he'd died, and Leon grabbed onto Arthur's shoulder to steady not only the king but also himself. It was a heavy blow. Arthur felt like the hollow pit in his chest was growing bigger.

"T-There's _nothing_ you can do?" he stuttered, dignity forgotten. If Leon weren't holding him steady, Arthur would have fallen to his knees in anguish.

"I do not have the power," Iseldir reluctantly confirmed, "but that is not reason to give in to despair. This is not meant to be Emrys's fate."

"Then you know of someone who can help?" asked Leon hopefully.

"Not of anyone by name," Iseldir said apologetically, "but the Catha, Priests of the Old Religion, will know more than I on how to cure an enchantment such as this. I must caution you, however. The Catha are men trained in the arts of magical torture. They can be quite ruthless."

"That doesn't bode well for us," said Elyan.

"I'm all for going against the odds but even I'm reluctant to seek out sorcerers who specialize in torture," Gwaine muttered.

"Is there anyone else?" asked Percival.

"There are other powerful sorcerers but none dwell in the same area for long," Iseldir answered.

Arthur shifted guiltily. He may not be the one who started the Purge but he sure hadn't done anything to change the laws concerning it either. He had made peace with the druids but that didn't mean they were necessarily allies. It was an agreement not a friendship and the king flinched as he felt a lick of shame burn his insides. There was a lot he needed to change, he realized.

Sensing his guilt, Iseldir added, "If you would like, I could spread the word among my kind to look for powerful sorcerers. If anything comes to light, I can inform you immediately."

"That would be most helpful," said Arthur gratefully as he glanced at his little warlock with worry. "Anything would be helpful," he added in a quiet whisper.

"I wish I could do more."

"We appreciate your willingness to help us at all," Arthur sighed, his gaze apologetic. "We haven't been very courteous to you or your people in the past."

"Blind men act in ignorance, King Arthur," Iseldir replied without malice. "Your heart is not blackened like your father's. Yours is a bright future that brings just as much hope to me as Emrys does."

Arthur didn't feel like he deserved the praise. He personally had hunted and killed countless druids in the name of the crown under his father's orders. He still remembered storming his first camp, his men murdering women and children while laughing; it made him sick even now. _Never again,_ he silently vowed to himself _, I will not allow prejudice and ignorance to attack these people ever again._

Iseldir stood up. "Would you like to stay for dinner?"

"Oh, we wouldn't want to impose," Leon began to protest.

Iseldir held up a hand. "It would be an honor to dine with Emrys and his friends."

The knights glanced at Arthur and the king looked to Merlin. The boy would want to tarry a while longer, Arthur knew. He was surrounded by his own kind after all. How could Arthur possibly rip him away from this when the man had done so much for him?

"We'll stay," he decided, "but we must head back to Camelot afterwards."

"Of course," Iseldir consented.

Walking over to where Merlin lay, the druid waved his hand and the boy's eyes slowly opened. Realizing he was in an unfamiliar place, Merlin sat bolt upright and looked around wildly until he saw Arthur. His relief was evident as his shoulders relaxed and a smile climbed his small lips. Arthur motioned for him to get out of bed.

"Are you hungry, Emrys?" asked Iseldir.

"Yes," Merlin answered shyly as he left the cot and walked over to Arthur, taking his hand automatically.

"Iseldir has offered for us to join him and the other druids for dinner," Arthur explained.

Merlin looked thrilled. "Will I be able to play afterwards?" he asked eagerly.

Arthur pretended to think about it a moment before grinning, "I suppose that would be fine."

"Yay!" Merlin exclaimed, hugging him around the leg before tugging on his hand, "Come on, Arthur, I'm starving!"

Sharing an amused glance with his knights, Arthur allowed Merlin to haul him outside. The second they made an appearance they found that most of the clan had gathered near and around Iseldir's tent. Merlin faltered, intimidated by all the curious stares. Several people started pointing at him and whispering to their neighbors in concern. Merlin let out a small noise of discomfort as he stepped closer to Arthur. Feeling protective, the king bent down and scooped his little warlock into his arms, glaring at the gathered crowd.

Iseldir stepped passed him to address his people. "Emrys has decided to honor us with his presence and he has brought with him the Once and Future King and the Knights of Camelot."

With a sweeping glance from their chieftain, the people's worry quickly transformed into sad acceptance, a few even nodding their heads before they began to disburse to various fires spread throughout the camp. Arthur raised an eyebrow.

Iseldir leaned over and quietly muttered, "Druids have the ability to speak with their minds. I've told them the situation is a delicate one and to not ask questions. I will inform them later concerning our earlier discussion."

Slightly perturbed that men could have such an ability, Arthur tried to keep a straight face as he replied, "Thank you."

Iseldir nodded. "Come," he invited, walking over to the biggest bonfire where four druids still remained.

Iseldir introduced them as the other druid elders who helped keep peace within the camp. One, a woman named Helena, was a seer. She sent Merlin and then Arthur a fond, almost motherly smile. The other three were older men, Balin, Kanan, and Ridoric. Kanan, the youngest of the three, handed Merlin a bowl of stew first before passing the second to Arthur and the third to Iseldir. Each druid looked upon the small boy with something akin to fascination and fondness. Merlin didn't pay them any attention, so focused was he on consuming his meal as quickly as possible.

"Merlin, slow down," Arthur chided.

"But you said after dinner I can go play," Merlin pointed out between spoonfuls.

"Yes but that doesn't mean that you should try to choke yourself, you idiot," Arthur replied, silently worried that the boy would do just that. Merlin scowled before slowing down.

"Thank you for your hospitality," said Leon, turning to the druids. "And for your help before," he added specifically to Iseldir.

The druid chieftain knew the knight was speaking of the time he'd healed him with the Cup of Life. Smiling warmly at Leon, he inclined his head. "It was no trouble, Sir Knight. We are always happy and willing to help those in need."

"Although, we never expected the son of Uther Pendragon to seek our aid," commented Balin with a hint of contempt in his voice. The grizzled man had a full beard, bushy eyebrows, and a permanent scowl fixed on his lined face.

Arthur tried to ignore the slight sting these words brought. Balin didn't seem the only one who held animosity towards him; even from here he could feel the angry glares of several men and women throughout the camp. The young king suddenly wished his Merlin were here.

"Balin," Helena chastened, "you would do well to watch your tongue."

The older man looked like he wanted to refute but one glance at Merlin changed his mind. Lowering his gaze, he grunted before returning to his soup. The knights glared at him and though Arthur was grateful for their loyalty, he didn't feel he deserved it. These people had every right to hate him. He shouldn't have been naïve enough to think that just because they accepted Merlin they would accept him too. He'd let his guard down with Iseldir but it was becoming clear to him that the majority of the druids, though harmless, were angry. They were still people capable of feeling; even if they were known for being accepting and peaceful, that didn't mean they were insusceptible to being hurt and irate.

"Princess may be a lot of things but he's a good man," Gwaine defended.

Arthur scowled. Calling him 'princess' in front of these people was not a boost to his morale at all. "Thanks Gwaine," he grumbled.

Merlin suddenly took his hand. Arthur looked down to find two little blue orbs filled with concern. "You okay Arthur?"

The king tried to wave it off, hiding his pain behind a smile. "I'm fine. Say, you seem to be done. Why don't you go play for a little bit before we have to go?"

Instantly the child leapt up, his eyes shining. "Really?"

"Go on," Arthur encouraged, "but stay where I can see you, alright?"

Merlin looked around until he spotted some children playing near a cluster of tents a few feet away. "I'll be right over there," he pointed.

"Alright," Arthur smiled, his heart hurting.

Merlin then surprised him by giving him a hug. The startled king barely had time to return it before the little sorcerer took off, running towards the children and starting to perform magic. Arthur watched as he produced not one but dozens of butterflies, several orbs of light, and manipulated the sparks from a nearby fire to form a dragon which proceeded to fly above the children's heads. The innocent magic was so different compared to what Arthur had seen sorcerers use. It was beautiful, breathtaking, and left a melancholy smile on his lips. The magic was an extension of the man it belonged to. A sudden painful ache weighed down on the king's heart and for a moment he had difficulty drawing breath.

He missed Merlin.

 _His_ Merlin.

He missed the man who could lift him with just a few words, who knew exactly when he was feeling down, and who always seemed to know when he needed him. Unlike child Merlin who ran about with a carefree smile, Arthur's manservant was more serious, wise, and understanding. The more Arthur thought about it, the more he realized that rarely had he seen Merlin smile the way he was now as a child. His adult smiles hardly reached his eyes and they would fade away when he believed the others weren't looking. Arthur berated himself for not taking more consideration towards his servant's silent distress. He had foolishly believed that whatever problems Merlin was dealing with were nothing compared to his own. How conceited!

Arthur suspected that Gaius was correct in the fact that Merlin had carried many heavy burdens alone and the king found himself wishing that he had been there to help. He may not know what they were, but as he watched the young Merlin run about without a care in the world, his desire to know everything his manservant had suffered through increased more than ever before. Just how many burdens had he taken upon himself? Would Arthur be able to help him? Merlin had always raised him up when his soul was weary; how he longed to do the same.

But first he had to get Merlin back and that required finding a powerful sorcerer. Merlin had been labeled as the most powerful sorcerer to ever live but Arthur didn't think it would be possible for the boy to remove the curse himself. He wasn't even aware of it and the king wasn't about to tell him he was actually an adult trapped in a child's mind and body. He imagined the confusion _that_ would bring and cringed.

Arthur was removed from his silent musings when something warm circled around his chest and neck, nuzzling his cheek. Jerking in surprise, he looked down to notice the small fire-spark dragon Merlin conjured staring back at him. After realizing it hadn't burned his skin in anyway, Arthur relaxed and hesitantly reached forward to stroke its head. The moment his fingers connected with the intriguing beast, something remarkably familiar spread through his entire person. The wave felt like an extension of Merlin himself, cocooning Arthur in the familiar feelings of loyalty, brotherly affection, concern, and encouragement that Merlin's words always stirred within his heart. Fighting against the slight burning sensation behind his eyes, Arthur looked up to see Merlin staring at him with concern. His expression spoke volumes, filled with the silent question: _'are you okay?'_

It would appear that Arthur was wrong. Merlin still knew when he was feeling down. Silently overcome, he raised a tentative hand and the fire-spark dragon – now curled in his lap – nuzzled his fingers affectionately. A small chuckle escaped the king's lips, one of fascination and release of his inner feelings.

"I've never seen magic like this before," whispered Ridoric, his tanned face filled with awe as he beheld the dragon.

"It is magic in its purest form," said Iseldir reverently, "a true blessing to witness."

Gwaine reached out a shaky hand and touched the dragon, gasping the moment his fingers connected with the little beast's head.

"Gwaine?" Percival asked in concern.

"It…" The roughish knight paused, looking up at the others. "It feels like Merlin."

"What do you mean?" Elyan inquired.

"Feel for yourself," Gwaine invited.

Tentatively, the other knights reached over to feel the dragon who seemed quite content to stay in Arthur's lap, rubbing its snout occasionally against the king's hand.

"You're right," muttered Leon, fascinated. "I can't explain it, but you're right."

"Emrys's magic is an extension of his soul," said Helena. "Since you are his familiars, you recognize him within the magic he has conjured."

"I never thought magic could be something so beautiful," admitted Elyan.

"Everything in this world holds light and darkness, Sir Knight," said Kanan. "Being a knight of Camelot, I venture to guess that you have unfortunately been exposed more to the darkness of magic rather than the light."

Resting his hand on the ground, the man's brown eyes lit up with a spark of gold. Pulling his palm away, a flower sprung up from the dirt, its white petals delicately fanning out.

Arthur couldn't ignore the fascination he felt watching the flower rapidly grow nor the peaceful feelings associated with it. He looked down at the fire-spark dragon which was currently wound around his arm, rubbing its head repeatedly over his fingers.

All his life he had been taught that magic was a vice that needed to be eradicated from the world of men. His father had attacked the magical community with a vengeance, even going so far as to hunt down those merely associated with the practice. Arthur had seen firsthand how often magic had attacked and destroyed his kingdom. Because of this, it was easy for him to view it in the same light as his father but he also couldn't ignore the magic Merlin had shown in the past two days. Not an ounce of it had been evil. Merlin and evil didn't even belong in the same sentence! The king shook his head. In the last forty eight hours his entire viewpoint of magic had been significantly shaken and again, for the hundredth time, he wished his Merlin was here so he could talk to him about all of this.

Arthur hadn't even realized he'd withdrawn completely from the conversation until Leon quietly nudged him with his shoulder, his gaze filled with concern. Arthur schooled his features and suddenly stood up. "We appreciate your hospitality but we should be returning to Camelot," he said abruptly. "We've been gone longer than anticipated and I'd rather not have the army sent to scour the woods for us."

Iseldir stood and inclined his head. "That is well, your majesty. I will hold to my promise and contact you should any news come to light."

"Thank you," Arthur said, shaking his hand as the knights stood up.

Saying goodbye to the other druid elders, the king made his way over to Merlin who was currently entertaining the other children -and a few adults- by causing water to dance and change shape in midair.

"Merlin," the king called.

The little boy immediately paused the water's movement, the liquid freezing in place several feet in front of him. "Yeah Arthur?"

"It's time to go."

"Awww, do we have to?"

Arthur nodded. "Come on."

Sighing, the little boy's eyes flashed and the water flew back into the waterskin it had originated from. There was a collection of disappointed sighs as Merlin mumbled out an apology before going over to where the knights stood waiting. His eyes did brighten a little when the fire-spark dragon finally released its grip from Arthur's arm and snaked down onto his shoulders. Merlin giggled, petting its tiny head before taking Arthur's hand.

The king looked up tentatively at the druids. A silent sadness dwelt in their countenances, their gazes fixed on Merlin. They obviously didn't want him to go but Arthur selfishly refused to stay any longer; he'd been away from Camelot long enough. Although, truthfully, he was eager to leave because being around this vast magnitude of innocent magic was making him feel guilty for all his past transgressions. It was taking everything he had not to pluck Merlin from the ground and make a break for his horse. He didn't feel comfortable here. He wanted to go back home where things were less complicated.

Forcing himself not to bolt, Arthur gently tugged on Merlin's hand and led him away towards the woods. Merlin waved back at the druids before miserably allowing Arthur to guide his footsteps. The moment the druid camp could no longer be seen, Arthur breathed easier. He wasn't unaware of Merlin's sadness however. The boy had a cloud of gloom hanging over his head. Even the little dragon on his shoulders seemed to be mourning.

"Did you have a good time, Merlin?" Arthur asked, trying to diffuse the uncomfortable atmosphere.

Merlin nodded but didn't say anything.

Arthur caught Gwaine's eye. The knight dipped down and flung an unsuspecting Merlin onto his hip.

"Gwaine!" the little boy complained but he was fighting a smile.

"What's wrong, Merlin?" he asked.

The little boy shrugged. "Nothing," he mumbled, his smile instantly disappearing.

Percival reached over and ruffled his hair. "It can't be nothing."

Merlin shook his head, his gaze still downcast. The knights shared a glance unsure of what to do. Arthur offered to take Merlin from Gwaine. The knight passed him to the king and Merlin buried he head into Arthur's shoulder. A quiet sniffle reached his ears. With a look he shooed the knights away, silently communicating that they would meet them with the horses. After a concerned glance at Merlin, the knights left, giving the two a moment alone. As soon as they were gone, Arthur set Merlin down on the ground and got on one knee to be at his eyelevel.

"Merlin, why are you crying?" -the boy didn't reply- "Is it because we had to say goodbye to the druids?"

"Maybe," Merlin mumbled.

Arthur should have known. While he had been wishing he could disappear from the camp Merlin had been relishing in the environment of magic. The king suddenly wondered if this was the first time in the warlock's life that he had been able to display his magic so openly without fear of being rejected, arrested, banished, or even killed. The thought saddened Arthur greatly. _He_ may not have been comfortable but he had to take Merlin's feelings into account.

"Hey," he softly soothed, "it won't be the last time you see them. We'll visit them again."

"Do I have to go back to hiding my magic?" Merlin asked miserably.

"For now," Arthur reluctantly admitted.

Merlin's devastation was hard to miss, his whole form sagging like the weight of the world was on his tiny shoulders. The king hated himself for causing such a reaction to such a pure soul. But he couldn't lose Merlin. Not again. Without his warlock he wouldn't be complete. When he was with Merlin, everything was right in the world; somehow, everything was okay.

But seeing him running about with the druids, being idolized and cherished, and able to use his magic as openly as he wished caused the king to worry. Arthur wouldn't be surprised if Merlin actually asked to stay with them. What if he did, after they restored him to his proper age? The druids treated Merlin like a king. Why would he want to stay with Arthur when he could be with them? It hurt, realizing how much he'd taken Merlin for granted. How much he'd probably hurt him with his brazen words of being a useless coward. Why would Merlin put up with it? Why hadn't he left Arthur years ago? Why had he stayed faithfully by the side of a man who consistently pledged that magic was pure evil?

"What do you want to do, Merlin?" he quietly whispered. "If you stay, you can live with the druids and practice your magic any time you want."

"But what about being your Court Sorcerer?" Merlin asked, confused.

Arthur's throat felt dry. "You… wouldn't be."

The boy really started crying now. "Did I do something wrong?" he asked through tearful sobs.

"What? No!" Arthur said, taking hold of his shoulders. "Why would you think that?"

"You want me to stay with the d-druids!" Merlin wailed, rubbing his eyes.

"No I don't!" Arthur snapped, angry that Merlin would even _think_ he wanted to get rid of him. "I want you to stay with _me_ , you idiot, but I don't think you'll be _happy_ if you do!"

Merlin blinked, wiping his tears away. "That's stupid," he said bluntly, frowning deeply at his king. "Why would I not be happy with you, Arthur? You're my big brother!"

And then he launched himself into Arthur's frozen form, hugging him as tightly as he could. The king was speechless. Had he heard right?

"You'd rather be with me than with people who practice magic?" he muttered, ignorant of the silent tear that was escaping his eye.

Merlin pulled away. Noticing the tear, he wiped it from Arthur's face with a small finger. "Of course, dollophead," he said seriously.

" _Why?"_ Arthur gasped, his voice hoarse.

"They're not you."

The words wrapped around Arthur's heart in a comforting embrace, leaving the king utterly speechless. Overwhelmed, a weak laugh barely managed to escape Arthur's constricted airway and he found his arms wrapped around Merlin's tiny body. What on earth had this little version of his manservant done to him? In two days he'd been reduced to leaking tears and craving embraces like a girl! Five year old Merlin seemed to have found a way to break all the walls he carefully kept over his emotions, knocking them down effortlessly with his unconditional love and loyalty.

"Thank you, Merlin," he whispered.

The little boy grinned, his small dragon leaping from his shoulder to fly around in the air above their heads. "Any time, Arthur." Then, with a flash of his eyes, Merlin's black hair changed to the honey blonde it had been before. Taking Arthur's hand, he gently started leading him through the woods towards the horses. Glancing up at the king, his eyes radiated with happiness. "Let's go home."

Grinning like a fool, Arthur scooped him into his arms and carried him off to where the horses and knights were waiting. Observing their king and warlock, each man relaxed when noticing their smiles. Arthur hoisted Merlin into the saddle before joining him, the fire-spark dragon still circling over their heads, providing light along the trail. Arthur and the others watched as it lazily glided back and forth as if it were swimming, laughing when it dove down a few feet before pulling up to do some aerial maneuvers. About halfway to Camelot, however, the dragon fizzled out of existence and Arthur realized Merlin had fallen asleep.

Noticing this too, Leon quietly asked, "Do you think Gaius may know of other sorcerers who can help us?"

"He might," Arthur muttered, "we'll ask him in the morning. It's too late to do so tonight."

After a while, Percival voiced the fear that all of them were thinking, "What if… what if we can't find someone to reverse the spell?"

Arthur's heart skipped a beat, panic settling in his chest. "We'll deal with that when it comes," he stated, his tone making it clear the subject was closed.

He wasn't ready to consider that possibility. It hadn't even been a week, for Camelot's sake! The druids may have been the least hostile people to seek out for answers but Arthur was willing to bet there were plenty of other sorcerers out there. At least one of them would be able to help, right?

He looked down at the top of Merlin's blonde head, his mind once again caught up in the moment when that rock slide had separated them in the Valley of the Fallen Kings. He remembered his terrified scream when Merlin disappeared from his sight, the empty hole that had grown in his heart, and his devastation over the possibility his best friend was lost to him forever... Arthur unconsciously tightened his hold around the warlock's chest.

 _I can't lose you, Merlin. I need you back._

It was a very subdued party that returned to the castle. By now the lower town was clear, everyone having retired to their homes for the evening. The patrols were making their nightly rounds, stopping only to acknowledge the king before continuing on their way. All was peaceful. Reaching the inner courtyard, a stable hand rushed out to take the reins from Arthur, the king dismounting after handing Merlin temporarily to Gwaine. Reclaiming the sleeping warlock, Arthur nodded to the knights before heading inside.

Ten minutes later Arthur was placing Merlin on his bed in the chambers next to his own. Removing the boy's mud-covered boots, the king tossed them onto the floor before doing the same with his tunic. For a moment, Arthur simply gazed down at the little one, remembering what he'd said to him in the forest.

" _They're not you."_

That one statement had impacted Arthur more than he had ever imagined. Merlin chose him over people with magic. The king couldn't understand it. Why would Merlin choose him? He had been happy with the druids, happier than Arthur had ever seen him in Camelot, and he didn't have to hide. He was loved, revered even, in the eyes of the druids while in the eyes of Camelot he was nothing but a manservant, practically a nobody in the crowd; someone society considered easy to replace. Even Arthur's father had said so once. The king scowled at the very thought.

They didn't understand! None of them did. Merlin was _not_ expendable. He could not be replaced. He had filled the hole in Arthur's heart and had brought joy to his life. Because of Merlin, he had the greatest men under his service and the love of a woman he never would have otherwise pursued. Merlin had influenced the changes in Camelot. They may not be traditional but Arthur had already reaped the benefits of straying from such practices. Knighting commoners, courting a maid, and befriending his manservant; the king's decisions were unorthodox but how great his happiness had been because of them! Because of Merlin; the moment that bumbling idiot had stumbled across his path and stood up to him, Arthur's life had changed - and it had changed for the better.

"I owe you _so much,"_ he whispered, stroking the little boy's hair. "Everything I am today is because of you. I… I can't do this without you, Merlin – be king, I mean. Well, be the king Gaius said I was destined to be. What am I to do? I'm scared. I don't know of anyone who can help you! This is my fault. That sorcerer never would have done this to you if I hadn't been so adamant in my view towards magic. What do I do, Merlin? _Tell me what to do!"_

His voice cracked, a tear falling down his cheek unbidden. He felt so _lost!_ The hostility he felt while with the druids, his uncle's betrayal, his best friend's current predicament, the reality that Merlin was a sorcerer and what that could mean because of the law, the regular burdens of the crown – all were finally catching up to him and Arthur didn't know which way to turn. It was amazing how one horrible thing could affect someone so much!

The king's shoulders shook just as something warm took his hand. Arthur opened his eyes and found Merlin's astonishing blue ones bearing into his own.

"M-Merlin," he stuttered very unkingly-like, "I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"

Ignoring the question, Merlin sat up and stared seriously at Arthur. "You're sad."

Arthur shook his head stubbornly. He couldn't lay his burdens on a five year old; especially when said five year old was one of those burdens! "I'm fine."

"Arthur, you can't lie to me," Merlin stated. "I can feel it. I felt it earlier too, at the druid camp. That's why I sent the dragon to you but you're still sad. What's wrong?"

Curse this horribly perceptive child! Curse these ridiculous stupid tears! _No_ , he was _not_ going to break down in front of a small boy! He was the king of Camelot. He was stronger than this.

"I'm _fine_ , Merlin," he reiterated.

But the boy would not be swayed. Rolling his eyes, Merlin folded his arms. "Stop being such a clotpole and tell me what's wrong."

" _I don't want to talk about it!"_

Merlin's hurt was evident on his face and Arthur immediately regretted lashing out, but before he could apologize, the boy hide his pain with a sad smile and said, "Okay, we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

Arthur stood, desirous to leave so that Merlin didn't have to see him break down even further. "You should go back to sleep."

He started making his way for the door when a set of little fingers wound their way around his large ones. Arthur glanced down just as Merlin yanked his arm with surprising force.

"Where do you think you're going?" he demanded, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"To bed," Arthur said, slightly taken aback by this aggressive behavior.

"Yeah," Merlin nodded, "but why are you _leaving?"_

Arthur's brain whirled. "I'm not sleeping _here_ , Merlin!" he practically shouted, feeling completely awkward at the very idea!

"Yes you are," Merlin stated. "You're too sad to be alone. When I'm sad, Mommy stays with me until I fall asleep. So I'm going to do the same for you."

Arthur's face turned bright red. "I'm not a child, Merlin."

"Yes you are," Merlin teased. "I overheard a couple of people in the hall the other day saying that you had to have help getting dressed. What kind of adult doesn't know how to dress themselves?"

Arthur huffed. "I'm perfectly capable of dressing myself, _Mer_ lin! At least I know how to walk down a hallway without tripping!"

"Oh yeah? Well, at least I'm not a dollophead!"

Arthur smiled, his earlier spout of emotion dramatically lifting from the small exchange. Merlin grinned, nodding in approval.

"There," he said, "a happy Arthur is better than a sad one."

Arthur couldn't help it as his smile widened further. He affectionately rubbed Merlin's hair. "Alright, now that you've succeeded, I'm going to bed."

Merlin completely interpreted that the wrong way. Tugging again on Arthur's hand, he led him back over to the bed before crawling onto the soft mattress and scooting over to make room for the king. Mortified, Arthur shook his head and backed away. There was _no way_ he was sleeping in the same bed as Merlin. That was just so _wrong!_ He turned on his heel and practically ran for the door only to have something grab him around the middle and fling him backward. Arthur yelped in surprise as he was dragged against his will onto Merlin's bed. Disoriented, he twisted around to find Merlin's eyes fading from brilliant gold to normal blue.

" _Merlin!"_ he snapped, sitting up, "There is _NO. WAY._ I'm sleeping in this bed with you!"

"You're acting like a baby, Arthur!" Merlin complained, using his magic again to stop the king from leaving. "Mommy says that whenever I squirm like you, I'm being a baby."

"I am _not_ a _baby_ , _Mer_ lin!" Arthur huffed, struggling to get off the bed but finding an invisible barrier had been erected around the four-poster. Pounding on it to no avail, he turned to glare at the little boy. "Let me out!"

"No," Merlin said simply, lying back onto his pillow with his hands behind his head.

Arthur scowled. "Merlin, I'll have you thrown in the stocks for a year if you don't lower this – this _invisible wall_ this instant!"

Completely unfazed by the threat, Merlin looked over at him, his blue eyes shining with an intelligence beyond that of a five year old. "Pulling away from others so they can't see your hurt will only leave you wishing that someone was there to see it, Arthur. I'm not going to let you be alone and sad so you might as well relax and go to sleep."

The king's jaw fell open. Merlin had closed his eyes so he couldn't see Arthur's astonished reaction to his words. If Merlin hadn't been a boy, Arthur would have thought that _his_ Merlin was the one lying on the bed next to him. The fight drained out of the king as he gazed upon the small child, wonder and hope beginning to fill his inner sorrow.

He'd just seen it again – a glimpse of his Merlin – he was sure of it! No way could a five year old blurt out that kind of wisdom! Merlin was in there somewhere and he was shining through despite the enchantment – and that renewed Arthur's spirit like nothing else.

And though a child, Arthur knew that Merlin would stick to his word; he wasn't going to be lifting the barrier any time soon. Awkward as it was, Arthur deduced that he was stuck here whether he liked it or not. Well, even though it wasn't his bed, it was still comfortable. He glanced at Merlin and inwardly cringed again at the thought of sharing the same bed as his manservant. But Merlin was currently a child not a man! With that in mind, the king thought, what was the harm? Nobody had to know; he could slip into his room in the morning before George showed up and anyone found out.

Letting out a sigh of defeat, the king poked Merlin in the stomach. "Alright, you win," he said when the boy's blue eyes opened. As his words registered, Merlin grinned triumphantly. "Oh, don't look so pleased, you're still a complete idiot," Arthur groused, looking away.

Merlin giggled, "And you're still a prat."

"Shut up," Arthur grumbled, fumbling with his boots. "If I flung these, would they stay on the bed?"

"Nope," Merlin answered, fluffing his pillow.

Wanting to test that theory, Arthur tossed his boots away from him. They sailed a few feet before landing in a heap on the floor. Frowning, Arthur tried to follow them but found his body smacking into Merlin's barrier.

"How come my boots can leave the bed but I can't?" he demanded, whirling around on his little warlock.

Merlin grinned mischievously, "Ask me that again tomorrow, Arthur, and I just might tell you."

The king scowled, rolling his eyes. "You're impossible," he grumbled, stripping down until he was in nothing but his trousers. "There! Happy?"

"Yep!" Merlin replied with an enthusiastic nod. "Are you?"

"No," Arthur snapped though secretly he was. He was touched that Merlin cared so much not to leave him alone.

He'd hit the nail right on the head after all, the little twerp; if Arthur had been free to go back to his chambers, he would have wallowed in his own pity and guilt until sleep claimed him. But with Merlin here, the pain seemed to have gone away.

"Merlin?"

"Yes, Arthur?"

"Not a word of this to anyone, do you understand?"

Merlin merely looked amused as he nodded. With a yawn, the little boy waved his hand and extinguished the candles in the room before settling back onto his pillow. Arthur sighed, laying back and trying to ignore the thought that it was _Merlin_ lying right beside him in the dark. Scrunching his eyes shut, Arthur forced the thought away. He just had to pretend that he was in his own bed, _alone._

"Arthur?"

The king groaned.

"Merlin, how am I supposed to sleep here against my will if you prattle in my ear all night?"

The boy was quiet a moment before, "I just wanted to show you something. Is that okay?"

If his voice hadn't been filled with so much pleading Arthur would have chucked a pillow at him, told him to shut up, and turned onto his side. Instead, the king sighed and rolled around to face him. "What is it?"

Merlin shifted nervously. "Sometimes, when I'm feeling sad and Mommy has already gone to bed, I make something. Can I share it with you?"

"By all means," Arthur invited, hoping that by humoring him, he could go to sleep.

Suddenly excited, Merlin sat up and his eyes flashed gold. It was rather alarming, seeing two little aurous orbs suddenly burst into existence in the dark, but Arthur's anxiety dissipated as Merlin's instinctive spell was made manifest.

Slowly the room began to fill with little specks of light, some shining brighter than others as they came into being. Familiar patterns Arthur had studied for as long as he could remember painted their way amidst the countless white dots and in the distance, somewhere Arthur imagined the doors to be, a streak of white ran the length of the room, flying through the countless maze of conjured stars until it disappeared like an actual shooting star. Colors streaked into life amongst the white specks, forming things Arthur had never seen before, leaving him breathless.

"You made the night sky," Arthur whispered, tentatively lifting one of his fingers to touch the nearest floating star.

The small light was comparable to a speck of dust but the warmth Arthur felt against his finger made the illusion seem real. It was like he was swimming through the cosmos itself. One of the clusters of color painted its way into being above their heads and Arthur reached up to touch it too. Again he felt warmth as his hand was tinted the same color as what he was touching.

"What is this?" he wondered, fascinated.

"I don't know," Merlin answered, touching the colors as well. "They always appear when I make the sky. Pretty, isn't it?"

Arthur nodded, his eyes filled with wonder, fascination, and definitely _not_ tears. He glanced at Merlin, seeing the colorful cluster reflected in his delighted eyes. This ability to create something so inspiring, so moving… it was _astounding_. For the first time since the accident Arthur felt completely relaxed and at peace. This, being here and basking in the purity of Merlin's magic, it felt like nothing he'd ever felt before. This magic was a miracle.

 _Merlin_ was a miracle.

The little boy lay back down after a moment, his eyes staying locked on the stars above him. "People say that magic is horrible," he mumbled, "that those who have it are monsters. I'm not a monster, am I Arthur?"

"Of course not!" Arthur cried immediately, angry that anyone would call Merlin such. "Merlin, this," – he gestured to the room they were in – "this is not evil. People are wrong. Magic isn't horrible. It's a _gift_. It's… it's _incredible,_ Merlin. _You're_ incredible."

The boy looked over at him, his entire countenance lighting up. "Really?"

Arthur placed a hand on his small shoulder and squeezed it. "Really," he repeated.

Merlin leapt up and hugged him. Arthur, stiff at first, relaxed into the embrace and chuckled.

"Thank you, Arthur," Merlin muttered.

"No, Merlin," Arthur said, releasing him and ruffling his hair, "thank _you_."

The two flopped back down onto the bed, content to simply bask in the stars around them. Arthur pointed out constellations and told Merlin which ones he followed at night when seeking his way home. He also shared with him how to locate the other kingdoms, Merlin soaking in all the information and repeating it, determined to memorize the routes. Then the little boy told Arthur stories his mother had shared about the constellations, tales involving creatures and heroes who always came off conqueror.

"Do you have a hero, Arthur?" Merlin asked after a rather large yawn escaped him.

Arthur glanced at him before smiling. "Everyone has a hero, Merlin. Growing up I had two: my father and the first king of Camelot, Bruta."

"Is King Bruta the one who stopped the war and brought about peace?" Merlin asked, his little forehead scrunched up in concentration.

Slightly surprised, Arthur nodded. "Yes, he was. He brought the people together and established the five kingdoms, pacifying the leaders and leading everyone to respect the borders and each other. He was a great man."

"He sounds really great," Merlin agreed, "but he's not as great as _my_ hero."

"Oh really?" Arthur questioned, poking him in the side. Merlin giggled, shying away slightly. "Who's your hero then, Merlin?"

Merlin looked him right in the eye and said with all sincerity and conviction, "I thought that was obvious. It's you, Arthur."

It took something monumental to cause a king to lose his voice and in that moment, Arthur couldn't find his. His mouth hung slightly open, his heart feeling as if it were being surrounded by a warm hearth, his brain unable to form words to reply to such a shocking revelation. He would have thought Merlin was pulling his leg, teasing him as he usually did, but the seriousness and enthusiasm the boy had used when answering was devoid of any form of jest. He truly did consider him his hero.

The little warlock giggled over Arthur's disbelief. "You look funny!" he laughed.

Arthur drew himself out of his stupor. _"Why?"_ he whispered.

Merlin's laughter ceased. "Why what?" he asked.

"Why me? Why am I your hero, Merlin?"

The little boy stared at him a moment before a warm smile lit up his eyes. "Because you're Arthur, Arthur," he said in all seriousness. "You protect and take care of me, you're the best swordsman I've ever seen, and you're the greatest king this world has ever known. Not to mention you like my magic and it really likes you."

"What do you mean, it likes me?" Arthur asked, confused.

Merlin frowned, trying to come up with a way to explain. "Well, I don't know," he admitted. "It's a feeling, I guess. It's warmer when I use it for you and I'm happier when I do. Like tonight, with the dragon; I knew you were sad and my magic kind of reacted on its own. Same as this," – he gestured to the stars around them – "I've made this many times back home but I've never been able to make it stay this long before. And every time you touch my magic, I feel… like I'm home, I guess. Yeah, that's what it feels like," he nodded, scooting closer and cuddling into Arthur's side, "like home."

Normally Arthur would have shoved Merlin away from him for even showing such blatant affection but, as he gazed down at the small boy, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Groaning as he felt his manhood slipping into the state of a little girl, Arthur gave in and allowed Merlin to stay where he was, his little head resting on his shoulder, his small arms wrapped around Arthur's bicep, and his legs tucked up against the king's side.

Placing his free arm behind his head, Arthur gazed back up at the constellations, his mind whirling with everything that had happened the past two days. So deep were his musings that he didn't realize the stars had disappeared until the small boy shifted away from him in sleep, sprawling out on his stomach with his head settling towards the king, his little mouth slightly open to draw in deep, even breaths. Arthur chuckled quietly, watching him while silently lamenting the loss of the cosmos in the room. It had been the most breathtaking form of magic he had ever seen.

 _I'm lifting the ban,_ he suddenly decided with conviction. _I'll start looking into the laws tomorrow and maybe, by the time we find someone who can lift Merlin's enchantment, the man will be free to share his gift with everyone._

For all of Merlin's lies no longer bother Arthur as much as they had before. He still wanted Merlin to answer his questions and explain his previous actions but he knew that no matter what Merlin told him, his decision would not change. Magic would no longer be banned in Camelot. Sure, there were those who had used it to threaten, hurt, and destroy but there were also those who used it to build, heal, and protect. Arthur was sure Merlin wasn't the only one out there with the latter kind of magic. Perhaps, after he lifted the ban, he'd be able to meet more like Merlin? Well, not like Merlin because nobody could be like Merlin – he was one of a kind – but there would be others who used their magic for good and Arthur hoped he'd be able to see what they could do.

Maybe by lifting the ban the world in which Gaius spoke of would become a reality: where everyone, magic or not, could live together under the united rule of Albion. Arthur hoped so. He wanted to build a kingdom that was based off the values he and Merlin shared. It truly would be a wonderful place, he mused.

Feeling an inner sense of peace and happiness wash over him, the king smiled and rolled onto his side. His gaze landed on his best friend – no – his little brother…

"Good night, Merlin," he whispered fondly before closing his eyes and going to sleep, his smile lingering still as dreams took hold.

* * *

 **So there you have it! This whole fic was created because of the scene that sprouted in my head where Merlin uses his magic to give Arthur the night sky. Did you like it? Please leave a review to share your thoughts. It would be a great Christmas present to me! I'll see all of you in five days. Enjoy your holiday! I'm going to go drowned myself in fudge now. YUM! :D**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello everyone! Many of you gave me reviews for the last chapter and they made me so very happy. I'm glad each of you shared your thoughts and thank you for the Merry Christmas wishes. :) I have some news. Our time with little Merlin is drawing to a close. However, before any of you start thinking this means the end of this fic, think again. We have the aftershocks of Merlin returning to normal for our favorite king to deal with! There are many chapters to come, my friends. I'm anticipating one or two more chapters of little Merlin before we see grown Merlin again. Exciting stuff to come!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin nor do I discriminate any kind of relationship people have. All I'm trying to establish in this story is that my version of Merlin and Arthur's relationship is straight and bromance-centered only. I have nothing against gay couples - some of my closest friends are homosexual.**

* * *

06: The Little Dragonlord

Arthur woke to a small pair of hands nudging his shoulder back and forth.

"Arthur!"

"Hmm-hmm?"

"Arthur! Wake up!"

"Merlin," Arthur grumbled, burrowing further into his pillow, "five more minutes."

Someone chuckled lightly and it most definitely was _not_ Merlin. The king's eyes snapped open before he whirled around to see none other than Guinevere setting Merlin's clothes out for the day on a nearby chair. Panicking, Arthur yanked the covers up to his chin.

"Guinevere!" he cried, his face turning red.

"Hello Arthur," she greeted as Merlin bounded off the bed to give her a hug. The maid turned her attention to the small boy. "Are you ready to get dressed now that he's up?"

Merlin nodded. "Yep!" Grabbing the clothes from the chair, he ran behind the partition and began to change.

Stepping closer to where the king still lay protectively hidden under the covers, Guinevere said without a smile, "I have to say I was quite surprised to walk into Merlin's room and find you cuddling together in the same bed."

Horrified that she had drawn to some fallacious conclusion, the king spluttered, "We were doing no such thing! Guinevere, he wouldn't let me leave last night! He set up a boundary. It's not what you think–"

Guinevere picked at a loose thread on her long sleeved dress, her eyes downcast. "Really…"

Arthur wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. "Guinevere," he groaned, rubbing his very red face with both hands, "this entire conversation is just–"

"Has Merlin taken my place? I know you two are close but…"

This could _not_ be happening! _"Guinevere!_ I'm not that kind of man!" he cried, appalled that he even had to say this to her! Some men may indulge in such practices but Arthur was definitely not one of them. Did he really have to clarify that?

The beautiful woman looked up and the king was confused to find her shoulders shaking with silent giggles, her eyes dancing with mirth. Seeing his befuddlement and horror, she burst out laughing, clutching her sides and wiping tears from her eyes.

Arthur's jaw dropped. "You're – You're teasing me?" he gasped, his mind whirling from the revelation.

"Oh, Arthur, you should see you face!" she giggled.

Falling back onto his pillow, the king covered his eyes with his hand. "I can't believe you," he gasped, overwhelmed as well as relieved that she hadn't been seriously upset. He had been one hair away from tossing the covers aside and gathering her into his arms to pledge his undying love for her. Lowering his hand he glared. "How could you?"

Guinevere stopped laughing, biting her lip and appearing shamefaced. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely. "I really couldn't resist."

Arthur let out a shaking sigh. "Don't ever frighten me like that again, Guinevere. For a moment I was terrified that you really thought that…" he couldn't bring himself to say the mortifying words aloud.

"Oh Arthur, I would never for a second entertain that thought when I know how you feel about me," she chided, bending over to kiss him lightly on the lips. "Although," she said mischievously, "several years ago there was a time when that particular gossip circulated and I confess I did wonder if it were true."

Arthur felt like someone had punched him right in the jaw. _"What?"_ he yelped. "There was gossip that Merlin and I… that we were a… please tell me you're _joking?!"_

Guinevere shrugged. "It didn't circulate for very long," she assured, "especially when Merlin got wind of it. He adamantly rebuked the idea. After he claim that it wasn't true, it died down, only coming up once in a while. I think it fully stopped when the others noticed that Merlin wasn't jealous seeing you with women."

"For the love of Camelot," Arthur groaned, rubbing his eyes. "I know that servants and nobles tend to gossip but never in my life would I have believed they entertained themselves with something like _this!"_

"Well then, it's a good thing you're openly courting me," Guinevere smiled, kissing his forehead, "because now all they talk about is us."

"Thank goodness," Arthur muttered quietly.

"What are you two laughing about?" Merlin asked, appearing from behind the changing screen with his light blue tunic rumpled a little off to the side.

"Oh, nothing in particular," Guinevere answered as she straightened the garment. "You look quiet handsome in that, Merlin. I'm glad we picked it out."

Merlin beamed, holding himself proudly. "And I got dressed all by myself – unlike Arthur."

"Hey!" the king complained, picking up his pillow and chucking it towards the boy.

Merlin ducked and the pillow skidded a few feet across the floor. He turned back to Arthur and wagged his finger at him. "That wasn't very nice."

"Shut up Merlin," Arthur groused, bristling slightly when the little warlock's eyes lit up humorously.

"Why don't you go and eat your breakfast, Merlin?" Guinevere suggested, pointing to a plate of food Arthur hadn't noticed earlier.

"Okay," Merlin said, happily doing as asked.

After making sure the little boy had settled safely at the table and began devouring his meal, Guinevere turned back to Arthur and appraised him. "You might want to get up, Arthur. George has been looking everywhere for you the last hour. The entire castle has, in fact. I had to dodge a round of guards and knights on my way here."

Arthur didn't need any more persuasion. Flinging the covers aside, he quickly donned his clothes from yesterday and pulled on his boots, Guinevere considerate enough to give him privacy by focusing on Merlin's progress with his food. After fastening his belt, the king ran a hand through his hair to fix any parts sticking up in the back.

Joining Merlin and Guinevere, he stole one of Merlin's sausages.

"Hey!"

Ignoring the small outcry, Arthur asked, "Do you think that you can take Merlin down to Gaius for today?"

"Of course," Guinevere smiled. "I can keep an eye on him too."

"Where are you going, Arthur?" Merlin wondered, forgetting his stolen sausage in plight of having to be separated from the king.

"I have duties to attend to, Merlin," Arthur answered. "But I promise that later today we can have dinner together."

"I won't see you until then?" Merlin cried, distraught.

"I'm afraid not," Arthur admitted, remembering that besides his personal task of finding a way to change the laws on magic, he also had to deal with a number of things today: the lords and their usual disputes concerning land, a pile of paperwork involving taxes and missives from neighboring kingdoms, making sure that the trade routes still had sufficient protection from bandits, and checking up on the training of the new knights employed in his service. It was going to be a long day. Oh, not to mention that he had to talk to Gaius at some point about different sorcerers to reach out to.

Merlin frowned, pushing his eggs around on his plate. "I really won't see you until dinner?" he mumbled dejectedly.

Arthur's gaze softened as he leaned forward and ruffled Merlin's hair. "I'll tell you what, maybe we can have lunch together too."

Merlin peeked up at that. "So I'll get to see you _before_ dinner?"

Arthur nodded, making a mental note to cancel his lunch appointment with Lord Tavers. The man would probably only boast about his vast collection of ancient artifacts anyway – like he _always_ did. Merlin's company would make lunch far more entertaining than hearing about some boring old candelabra that was supposedly owned by King Bruta himself.

"Okay," Merlin agreed, "but can we also go for a walk after? I want to see more of the castle!"

Arthur caught Guinevere's eye. She looked at him expectantly and Arthur found himself caving under her questioning stare. "I think that can be arranged," he answered.

"Yay!" Merlin cried happily. Shoveling the last of his eggs into his mouth, he slipped off the chair and grabbed Guinevere's arm. "Come on, Gwen," he said cheerfully, "let's go find Gaius!"

Laughing slightly, Guinevere stood up, pausing only to kiss Arthur in farewell. Arthur stood up and watched them go, his heart warm at the sight. Before Guinevere could open the door, however, Merlin rushed back to his side and gave him a hug.

"Are you feeling better today?" he asked, looking up at him.

Ignoring Guinevere's curious stare, Arthur nodded with a smile, "Yes, Merlin, I am."

The little boy's grin would put the sun to shame it was so bright. "Good!" Hugging Arthur one last time, Merlin ran back to Guinevere and the two left the room, the little boy already chattering away about something trivial.

Arthur's heart was still filled with warmth as he left Merlin's chambers to wander back to his own to change into something new for the day. His tranquility was shattered when a number of worried knights and guards rounded the corner.

"Sire!" Sir Bedivere cried in relief, "Where have you been? Your temporary manservant informed the guards that you weren't in your room this morning. We've been looking everywhere for you. Sir Leon was about to send a squadron into the woods!"

"Well, someone had best inform them that I'm perfectly safe in the castle then," Arthur said, staring pointedly at one of the guards.

The man got the hint and ran off to do as asked with due haste. Ignoring the concerned looks of his knights, Arthur meandered down the hall to his chambers. Sir Bedivere was the only one who followed him inside. He stood stock-still just behind the door, watching Arthur as the king crossed the room and began to change into the fresh clothes George had left on the partition.

"Sire," Bedivere tried again, "where were you last night?"

"I don't believe I have to answer that, Bedivere," Arthur replied, "but to keep rumors from circulating, you can tell anyone you come across that I most certainly was not with Guinevere."

"Of course, sire," Bedivere answered immediately before hesitantly asking, "you weren't really, were you?"

Arthur strode out from behind the screen, glaring indignantly at his second knight in command. "Of course not, Bedivere! I'm a man of honor not a sensualist!"

"My apologies, Your Majesty," the older man hastily bowed, "I did not mean to offend."

Arthur sighed, rolling his eyes as he fastened his belt around his waist. "I'm sure you didn't. I just don't appreciate rumors flitting around the castle concerning Guinevere. I can't help it if people gossip about me -I'm the king and it's to be expected- but I would rather her name and reputation remain untainted."

"If I hear anything concerning her I will reprimand any involved with the slander," the knight promised.

"Good," Arthur praised, setting down to eat the breakfast George had left him.

It was too much for just one man to eat, however, the overachieving servant unable to understand that Arthur wasn't capable of eating this amount of food himself; he was secretly grateful Merlin had consumed half his breakfast yesterday – minus the sausages – due to that very fact!

"Have you eaten yet, Bedivere?"

"Sire?"

"There's no way I'm going to be able to eat all of this myself," Arthur complained, gesturing to the vast amount of food on his overflowing plate.

The knight immediately began to protest. "Sire, you can't expect me to eat your portion!"

"I'm not," Arthur stated, rising and going over to a cupboard where he knew spare cutlery was kept in case he had visitors.

Getting out a plate and utensils, the king scraped off half the meal George had brought and indicated for Bedivere to partake. The older knight apprehensively took a seat but didn't move to eat until Arthur was happily consuming his sausages – none of which he relinquish to the other man.

After half his eggs were gone, Bedivere had gathered enough courage to return to his former inquiry. "Sire, if I do run into others who demand it, what should I tell them concerning your whereabouts this morning?"

Arthur shrugged. "You can tell them I went for a walk."

"But that's not the truth, is it?"

"No, Bedivere, it isn't, and I would appreciate if you didn't continue to pry into my personal affairs," Arthur said angrily, desirous to close the current discussion.

"Sorry, sire," the knight muttered, shamefaced.

Before Arthur could say more, his chamber doors were thrust open and a rather harried Leon appeared followed closely by Percival, Elyan, and Gwaine.

"Arthur, where on earth were you?" Leon demanded, his informality due only to his worry for his friend.

"That isn't important, Leon," the king stated calmly, "Though I appreciate your concern over my safety."

"You're our king, Arthur! Of course we were worried!" said Elyan.

"We thought the worst when George ran through the castle screaming that your chambers were empty and appeared to not have been slept in," Percival confessed.

"Where'd you run off to, princess?" asked Gwaine, unable to hide his concern under his usual cheer.

"As I already said to Bedivere, I am perfectly capable of keeping my affairs _private_ if I so wish!" Arthur said, annoyed that they wouldn't let the matter drop. As touched as he was, he was entitled to _some_ privacy, surely? Besides, there was no way he was going to simply confess to the knights that he slept with Merlin last night!

Oh, that sounded so wrong, even in his thoughts!

Shaking his head, the king tried to keep the mortification from his face as he hastily stuffed a large portion of bread into his mouth.

"You weren't with Gwen, were you?" Gwaine teased.

Elyan's eyes flashed protectively and his hand unconsciously went for his sword.

"What? _NO!"_ Arthur cried, shoving his plate away, his appetite spoiled. "Why is everyone even considering that was where I was? Have I done anything in the past to cause such rumors?"

"Well, sire, there have been a few… _incidents,"_ Leon said delicately.

Arthur bristled. "Of my own free will and choice!" he clarified. "Those other times were due to spells and enchantments, Leon!"

"That may be true but it doesn't change the fact that they happened, princess," Gwaine said while wiggling his eyebrows.

Arthur picked up his fork and threw it at the man. Gwaine dodged the projectile with ease, the utensil harmlessly slamming into the wall before falling to the floor with a clang. Incensed, the king forced himself to his feet.

"Let me make this very clear," he whispered in a deadly tone, stalking up to his men, "I. Was. _Not_. With. Guinevere."

Gwaine held up his hands and took a step backward. "I never said you were, princess."

Arthur breathed slowly through his nose and stepped back. "As to where I was, that's my business, alright? Just know that I was safe and there's no need to concern yourselves over the matter any longer. Now, I'm sure that each of you have things to do _as do I_ so we might as well get on with our day."

And on that note the king left the room, heading for his council chambers where the lords would soon join him to discuss mundane things about land. He knew he would be early, as they were probably finishing with their own breakfasts, but the king didn't mind the brief reprieve. Unfortunately, he ran into George halfway there.

"Sire!" he cried frantically, rushing up to him with relief written clearly all over his face.

Arthur held up his hand in warning. "Don't you _dare_ ask me where I was, George. I'm fine, I went for a walk, and now I'm on my way to meet with the lords. You can return to my chambers and perform the usual duties. As for my lunch, I will have it in my chambers. Make sure there is enough for two since Arlin will be joining me."

The young man was rather taken aback by the brazen dismissal but he handled it with perfect subservience. Bowing low, he adamantly replied, "I will see to it, sire," before running off.

Arthur, scowling at such disgusting behavior, resumed his walk while silently pining for the footfalls of his clumsy manservant behind him. Entering the council room, Arthur slowly made his way over to his chair and sat down, threading his fingers together. His thoughts strayed to his uncle and he silently wondered if Guinevere or Gaius had anything to report; he hadn't thought to ask the former earlier due to the rather embarrassing situation she'd found him in. Arthur sighed, making a mental note to add Agravaine to the things he had to talk to Gaius about.

Rubbing a hand over his face, Arthur wondered just exactly what Agravaine might be up to. What task had Morgana given him? Was he planning on killing him? Or was he merely whispering information to Morgana concerning his dealings? Arthur didn't know and that frustrated him. He knew Merlin's tactical approach of waiting and observing was a wise one but at the moment all he wanted to do was arrest his uncle and confront him. He didn't like the idea of a snake slithering around his castle – especially when he also had to worry about a five year old warlock running about in plain sight!

The doors opened and the lords trudged in, each eyeing the king with curious concern. Agravaine was among them and Arthur found himself stiffening at the sight of the traitor.

"Sire, it is good to see you safe," he stated, sitting down on Arthur's right.

It took an immense amount of self control not to throw Agravaine from the chair that was reserved for his most trusted advisor. That seat belonged to Merlin, he finally realized, and this pathetic excuse of a man had _no right_ to be there!

Schooling his expression into one of immense calm, Arthur smiled. "Thank you, uncle."

"Arthur, I and the others were rather worried when we learned of your disappearance this morning. We were afraid the traitor had made an attempt on your life," Agravaine continued.

Arthur nearly laughed. Indeed! If there had been an attempt on his life, his uncle would be the first to know about it! Even now he could see the man's slight disappointment at finding the king was well. Arthur's threaded fingers tightened slightly in an attempt to control his anger.

"Well, as you can see, I'm unharmed," he said with a jovial air, "although, that might change halfway through this discussion."

Several of the lords laughed and Arthur took that as his cue to start. It was beyond boring. Lord Ulridge complained about the fertile crops growing in Lord Sedric's lands while his were drying up in the noonday sun, Lord Kriss accused Lord Erin of allowing people to settle on his property, and Lord Olaf claimed that Lord Weston was withholding taxes from the crown – on and on it went. Arthur handled the disputes, issuing orders to have them thoroughly investigated, pacifying the lords so their obvious grudges would no longer weary his eardrums. By the time the meeting ended the old men left happy and his uncle praised him for handling the situations with diplomacy and justice.

Finished with the nonsense, Arthur resigned himself to his chambers where he spent the next two hours going through tax missives and other forms, calculating numbers and making sure each collection was fair and just. It was grueling work and by the time he was done, his eyes were as unfocused as his brain. Arthur sat back and stretched, his fists reaching for the ceiling just as someone knocked on the door.

"Come," Arthur invited, rubbing the back of his neck.

The door was pushed open, revealing George's back before the manservant turned around with a hearty meal in tow. Arthur's stomach growled appreciatively. Merlin would have teased him over that but George remained stoically silent, ever the perfect servant. It grated on the king's nerves.

While George finished setting the table, Arthur pretended to return to his paperwork although he was really thinking about something else. He wanted to slip away to see Geoffrey but did he have time to do so? He had to go to the training grounds to observe the young knights and obtain a report from Leon and Bedivere concerning the trade routes. He also had to find and talk to Gaius still. So much to do!

There was another knock on the door before it swung open without invitation and a small blonde bolted into the room followed by a much calmer Guinevere.

"Arthur!" Merlin shouted happily, running up to him and crawling into his lap. He threw his arms around his neck before pulling back. "You're not as happy as when I left."

 _Ever observant_ , Arthur inwardly chuckled. "That happens when you have to settle arguments with grumpy old men. Are you hungry?"

"Yeah!" Merlin stated, getting down and bounding over to the table now displaying the meal George had meticulously arranged.

Arthur, already much happier now that Merlin and Guinevere were here, left his desk and walked over to the young maid. Enveloping her in a warm embrace, Arthur pulled away and kissed her lightly in greeting. George, watching the scene in silence, stayed out of the way with his hands behind his back waiting for further instruction – that is, until Merlin began to question him.

"Why are you standing like that?" the little boy asked.

Guinevere giggled and Arthur looked rather amused as George blinked in surprise. "Like what?" he asked.

"All stiff and stuff," Merlin answered. "Do you ever smile? And why are you dressed so funny?"

Arthur tried and failed to hide his grin as the servant attempted to keep his dignity throughout his response. "It is a servant's job to stand erect and ready at all times in order to provide the best service. I do smile, young sir, and your humble opinion of my dress is dually noted but I implore you to consider the sufficiency it brings in my field of work."

"You're weird," Merlin bluntly stated with a heavy frown.

"Arlin!" Guinevere reprimanded while Arthur snorted into his hand, quickly turning it into a cough at the look she sent his way.

Clearing his throat, Arthur decided that he may as well rescue George from any further insults, "Thank you, George, that'll be all."

"Sire," the servant bowed, before leaving the room with a scowl on his face.

The second the door was closed, Guinevere rounded on the two of them. "Merlin, that wasn't very nice!"

"What?" the little boy defended, "He _is_ weird! I wasn't lying!"

Guinevere looked like she was fighting her own smile as she shook her head. "Everyone is different, Merlin. Just because you don't like George doesn't mean you should make fun of him."

"But Arthur was laughing!" Merlin complained.

Feeling Guinevere's eyes on him, Arthur coughed, "Yes, well, I was wrong to do so," he wisely said. It was better not to anger a woman further than she already was; he'd learned that the hard way.

Merlin frowned. "Then I guess I was wrong too. Sorry Gwen."

Guinevere sighed. "That's quite alright. I guess I'll leave the two of you to it. I promised to have lunch with Gaius."

"Alright then," Arthur muttered, kissing her again.

"You know, that's really disgusting," Merlin voiced, his nose scrunched up. "Why do you do that?" Grinning, Arthur tightened his hold on Guinevere and kissed her further. Merlin made a gagging noise. "Gross!" he complained.

Chuckling, the two adults broke apart and Guinevere bade them goodbye. Arthur sat down at the table and began slicing a cut of meat ignoring Merlin's offended look.

"If you don't eat, Merlin, I might steal your chicken."

"You're already bigger than you should be, Arthur," Merlin griped, scooping up a mouthful of grapes and heartily stuffing them into his mouth.

"Hey!" Arthur shouted, clipping the back of Merlin's head.

The small child grinned cheekily, returning to his plate. Arthur shook his head in bewilderment. The more time he spent with Merlin, the more the boy acted like the man he knew. Perhaps, if this continued on, Merlin would not only act like his old self but start to remember things as well? Merlin pulled him from his thoughts by asking about his day.

Arthur shrugged. "It's been rather dull, actually. What about you?"

Merlin happily launched into giving him a detailed description of everything he'd done with Gaius that morning. His favorite thing had been adding several extra ingredients to one of the old physician's concoctions.

"And then," Merlin giggled, "it blew up! Gaius's face was black and his hair was standing up everywhere!"

Arthur snorted into his food. Coughing slightly, he laughed, "What did he do after that?"

Merlin's smile faded a bit. "Well, first he checked to make sure I was okay. Then he lectured me with his eyebrow of doom because he found out I was the one who ruined his potion."

Arthur could hardly breathe he was laughing so hard. 'Eyebrow of doom?' Merlin really was something else. The little boy's laughter joined his and for a while neither could stop. Reducing his mirth, Arthur reached over and ruffled Merlin's hair.

"Thank you, Merlin."

"For what?" the boy asked curiously.

"Nothing really," Arthur shook his head. "I needed a good laugh, I suppose."

Merlin grinned and the two went back to finishing their meal. As soon as Arthur ate the last of his meat, Merlin asked him if they could go on their walk. Arthur glanced at a marked candle. He had another hour before he had to meet the knights on the training field. He could spare a little of that to walk around with Merlin before going off to meet Geoffrey.

"Let's go then," he said, standing up.

Merlin clasped his hand and practically dragged him down the hall, asking question after question concerning the tapestries, the rooms, and the stained glass windows they passed. Arthur answered every question with a slightly strained patience while trying to ignore the adoring and curious gazes of the servants, guards, and the occasional lord they encountered.

"Wow," Merlin breathed when Arthur took him up to the tower occupied by the warning bell.

Two guards were posted there at all times and they immediately abandoned their dice game at the appearance of the king. Merlin skipped until he was underneath the bell and shouted up into it, his voice echoing several times. Arthur smiled, remembering that he'd done something similar himself the first time he'd seen the bell up close.

"Arlin," he called.

Merlin looked over at him and Arthur motioned for him to follow. "Gentlemen," he said, addressing the guards with a nod. They had been staring at Merlin with disbelief and interest – they'd heard the rumors of the king's ward but they'd had yet to see the boy with their own eyes – but they snapped back to attention under Arthur's scrutiny. Merlin crossed the room and reclaimed Arthur's hand. The two made their way out of the tower and onto the battlements. Merlin was too short to see the view so Arthur decided to surprise the lad by scooping him up and resting him on his shoulders.

Merlin giggled happily before he let out another exclamation of delight. "You can see the lower town from here!"

"Yes," Arthur laughed, holding tightly to Merlin's legs as he made his way along the narrow path. The few guards they passed had the same look of disbelief on their faces as the ones in the bell tower. Ignoring them, Arthur focused on pointing out various things to Merlin from the lower town to the multiple towers of the citadel, the inner courtyard, and the training field. Merlin shouted with joy when he saw the knights in the training field sparring with swords and maces.

"Gwaine!" he shouted, recognizing the long haired knight before the others.

His shout drew the attention of several knights and the practice matches ceased as the men shielded their eyes from the sun to pinpoint the location of the noise.

"Arlin!" Gwaine shouted back, waving up at him. "What are you doing up there?"

Merlin waved enthusiastically and Arthur had to redouble his grip so the small boy wouldn't fall. "Careful, Merlin," he muttered.

"Sorry, Arthur," Merlin answered back before bellowing, "Arthur's showing me the castle!"

"Is he now? You'd better not drop him, princess!"

The collective laughter of the knights could be heard and Arthur rolled his eyes. "If I end up dropping anyone from the battlements it'll be _you_ , Gwaine!"

The carefree knight laughed deeply from his belly in response, saluting the king with a mock bow. Rolling his eyes, Arthur started walking again and eventually the training field disappeared. Reaching one of the towers, Arthur lowered Merlin from his shoulders and the two descended the spiral staircase, emerging out into the courtyard. Merlin ran halfway across before doubling back, his antics visible to all within the vicinity. He ran into Arthur's arms and, absorbed in the moment, the king caught him and tossed him into the air. Both laughed openly, ignorant of the fond expressions and deep grins on the faces of their audience.

"Alright, let's get you back to Gaius," Arthur said, lowering Merlin on the ground.

"Awww, do I have to?"

The king ruffled Merlin's hair and took his hand. "Yes Arlin," he smiled. Merlin didn't look too happy about their walk being over. Trying to cheer him up, Arthur knelt down at his level. "I tell you what, how about I race you there? You do remember the way back to his chambers, right?"

Merlin nodded, his eyes lighting up. "Okay but I bet I'll beat you!"

The king snorted. "I highly doubt that," before adding quietly, "and no cheating with magic."

Merlin pouted a moment and then gave in. "Okay," he sighed.

Arthur stood. "Ready? Set? Go!"

Merlin took off running as fast as he could and Arthur trailed after him at a jog. The king's long strides caught up with the little boy and Arthur made sure to cheekily stick his tongue out at Merlin before running past.

"No fair!" Merlin shouted. "You have longer legs!"

"I never said I'd go easy on you!" Arthur called over his shoulder before disappearing through a doorway. He could hear Merlin running after him, dodging servants burdened with laundry and empty lunch trays as he went. Skidding to a halt just outside of Gaius's door, he turned around in time to see Merlin barreling around the corner. The sudden turn was the perfect opportunity for Merlin's standard clumsiness to take effect and the boy tripped over his own feet, tumbling a couple of times.

"Merlin!" Arthur cried in concern, rushing forward to check on him.

Merlin hissed as he pushed himself to his feet. Little tears filled his eyes and his lower lip trembled from the small scrape on his elbow.

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked, reaching him.

"Yeah," Merlin sniffed.

Unconvinced, Arthur took the boy's arm to examine the wound himself. It wasn't so bad, just a little bit of skin rubbed away. "You ought to take better care of where you put your feet," he muttered as he hoisted the tearful boy into his arms.

"It's your fault," Merlin huffed, wrapping his arms around the king's neck. "You're the one who wanted to race."

"Oh, so your clumsiness is my fault, is it?"

"Yeah," Merlin sniffled. "And Arthur, I thought I was supposed to be undercover."

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked, confused.

"You called me Merlin instead of Arlin," Merlin hissed quietly in his ear before reproachfully adding, "You broke a rule."

Arthur froze, realizing that Merlin was right. But he couldn't fault him for that! He was concerned! Panicking, the king glanced back and forth. "Did anyone overhear?" he whispered.

Merlin shook his head. "I didn't sense anyone around. It's just us – well, and Gaius but he's inside his room."

"Thank goodness," Arthur let out a relieved sigh. "Come on, let's have Gaius fix you up."

Not at all looking forward to the possible reprimand for hurting his ward, it was a rather reluctant king who entered Gaius's chambers a moment later. Setting Merlin down on the bench, Arthur explained what happened while Gaius sent 'the eyebrow of doom' his way. The king had to fight not to burst out laughing again when he thought of the title Merlin had given to that famous glare.

"It's just a scrape," Gaius confirmed after rubbing some ointment over it and wrapping it in a bandage. "You should be more careful, Merlin."

"Sorry Gaius," the boy muttered.

Satisfied that Merlin was okay, Arthur cleared his throat. "Well, I'd best get going. I'll see you at dinner, Merlin."

"Okay," Merlin answered, getting down from the bench to give Arthur a hug.

The king met Gaius's amused smile at the open acceptance of such affection. Ignoring the old man's grin, Arthur said, "I need to speak with you later, Gaius. Perhaps sometime before dinner, you can leave Merlin with Guinevere for a while?"

"I'm sure I can arrange it," Gaius answered as the small boy became occupied flipping through a picture book. Arthur suspected Gaius had snagged it at some point from the library for Merlin's enjoyment.

Nodding to the physician and messing up Merlin's hair one more time, Arthur took his leave. He hastened to the library, knowing he only had twenty minutes to spare before having to be out on the training field with his knights.

Unlike Merlin who seemed to find immense satisfaction with books, Arthur had very little enthusiasm for the written word. Perhaps it was because he'd had to have his nose pressed against countless pages for hours on end as a child, learning and studying every subject necessary to eventually rule. He definitely hadn't made it easy on Geoffrey; he'd tried his patience many a time but the old man held a certain fondness for him. Maybe it was due to his frequent questions? Because Arthur loved learning, just not when a book was involved. He was more of a hands-on kind of student, preferring to use his ears and observation skills to study rather than reading words on a page.

Entering the library brought back many memories for Arthur and the young king found himself smiling as he slowly approached Geoffrey's desk. The man was deeply engrossed in some ancient volume but he glanced up once Arthur had stopped right in front of him.

"Sire!" the old man cried with surprise. "What brings you here?"

Arthur looked back and forth suddenly nervous. "Are we alone?" he muttered.

"Currently, yes," Geoffrey answered, eyeing him curiously.

"The matter I am about to discuss with you is of the utmost importance and I tell you in confidence that you will refrain from sharing it with anyone else."

Geoffrey, rather alarmed now, assured Arthur by stating in all seriousness, "I would never betray your confidence, Arthur."

The familiarity of his name played a significant role in easing the king's wary mind. Nodding discreetly, Arthur confessed the reason of his visit. "I wish for you to gather everything you have concerning the laws of magic both before and after the Purge."

Of all the things the king could ask for, this was by far the last the old historian had been expecting. His bushy eyebrows rose as his eyes widened. "Sire?" he questioned.

"You heard me," Arthur said, straightening. "I want everything concerning the matter, Geoffrey, and I want it as soon as you can get it to me – preferably by the end of the day, if you could."

Finally finding his voice, the old man hoisted himself to his feet. "I'll start right away," he said.

Arthur smiled, placing a hand on Geoffrey's shoulders. "Thank you, old friend. This is of the utmost importance to me."

Geoffrey searched his eyes, until his countenance brightened. "You've finally found your way," he smiled, his light eyes twinkling.

Puzzled, Arthur frowned. "Sorry?"

The old historian shook his head before stepping back and bowing low to the king. "I'll do everything in my power to bring you what you seek, my king."

Surprised and still confused by this behavior, Arthur decided not to press the subject. The only thing that mattered was Geoffrey's willingness to be discreet and sufficient in the task he'd set him.

"Thank you," Arthur replied.

He then left to join the new knights on the training field, silently puzzling over what Geoffrey had said and his reaction to his request. Perhaps the old man had figured it out? How could he not? Why else would the king of Camelot request to see such documents? And if he had, he hadn't been upset. In fact, he almost appeared proud. Could Geoffrey be another who disagreed with the ban like Gaius? Arthur wouldn't be surprised. The two ancients were friends after all. Feeling somewhat excited about making the first step to setting Merlin free, the king happily walked down to the training field.

[][][]

About an hour before Merlin was due to join him for dinner, Arthur was interrupted from reading a boring missive from King Rodor by a knock on his door.

"Come!" he called.

The door opened to reveal Gaius. Setting the letter containing things about trade aside, Arthur greeted the older man with a smile.

"Gaius, I take it Merlin is with Guinevere?"

"She's taking him for a walk through the gardens," Gaius answered, joining the king at the table. "What is it you wished to speak with me about, sire?"

Arthur related to him everything that happened with their visit to the druids. "Iseldir couldn't help him, Gaius," he muttered. "I know he's looking for other powerful sorcerers who may be willing to help but I wondered if you might know of anyone else."

Gaius was silent for a long time, his gaze fixed on the wooden table, a frown prominent on his face. At length, he finally looked up. "Iseldir is well known for being a very powerful sorcerer, sire. For him not to be able to help Merlin… it's quite disconcerting. As he said, the Catha do possess remarkable magical ability but I don't believe they will be willing to help us."

"So there's no one you can think of?" Arthur despaired.

"There is one who may contain the knowledge we are looking for," Gaius countered, "but, given the circumstances, he may be difficult to contact."

"I'm willing to send out a thousand messengers if need be," Arthur stated.

"None of your messengers would be able to find him, Arthur," Gaius confessed. "He must be _called."_

Arthur's brow furrowed. "I don't understand."

"Kilgharrah, the Great Dragon," Gaius elaborated.

"The dragon?!"

"He has a vast amount of knowledge and I believe he would be able to give us the information needed to restore Merlin to his true form."

"But," Arthur hesitated, "you said before that Merlin had to summon him, right?"

"Indeed sire," Gaius confirmed.

"But he doesn't remember how!"

"The magic of a dragonlord still resides inside of him," said Gaius, "if we can coax it out, Merlin will instinctively know what to say."

"But I don't know how to do that," Arthur admitted. "Do you?"

"I think I can direct him as to where to find the magic," Gaius answered confidently, "But we wouldn't want to do so here in Camelot. The call of a dragonlord is similar to that of a roar. There would be no hiding Merlin's abilities if we were to try to summon Kilgharrah from here."

"Where would be a good place to go then?" Arthur asked while trying, with difficulty, to picture Merlin shouting up at the sky in some weird tongue to summon a beast two hundred times his size.

"Merlin once told me there was a clearing just west of the citadel. He usually meets with him there."

"Right," Arthur muttered, "it would be best to do this in the dark – I can't have a dragon flying around my kingdom in broad daylight. Can we do it tonight?"

Gaius didn't seem surprised by his eagerness. "I suggest we keep it as discreet as possible if we do, sire. And it might be better to go on foot than by horse."

"What? Why?"

"The dragon will more than likely spook them and it is easier to slip past the guards on foot than on horseback."

"How far away is the clearing though?"

Gaius smiled. "Don't worry about these old bones, Arthur. The clearing isn't far and I'm still spry enough to manage a long walk in the woods."

Arthur chuckled, grateful that Gaius hadn't taken offense to his unvoiced concern over his age. "Alright then," he muttered. "We'll take Percival and Gwaine along. I'll leave Leon in charge and Elyan will keep an eye on Agravaine. Speaking of my uncle, did he cause any trouble yesterday while I was gone?"

Gaius shook his head. "No sire. I was meaning to report to you earlier but with Merlin around…"

"I understand," Arthur sighed. "I just wish I knew what he was really up to!"

"We'll learn soon enough," Gaius consoled. "For now it is best to keep him within our sights. He won't hide from us forever."

Arthur nodded. "Thank you, Gaius. Could you tell the knights what we've discussed?"

"Of course."

Arthur stood at the same time as the physician. "We can't all be seen leaving the citadel at the same time. I'll go first with Merlin and meet the three of you at the south gate fifteen minutes after the tenth bell. Since the clearing is in the west, taking the south gate will mean we have to travel a longer route around the city but I'd rather throw anyone off our trail than have them follow us."

"Agreed," Gaius muttered, "I'll make sure the knights know of the plan."

"Thank you, Gaius," Arthur said, clasping the man's shoulder.

[][][]

That night, after Geoffrey had delivered a monstrous pile of documents to Arthur's chambers – the king having hidden them in a locked chest at the foot of his bed – Arthur quietly closed the door to his room and made his way down the hall with two traveling cloaks over his arm. Slipping into Merlin's chambers, the king found the small boy already asleep.

"Merlin," he quietly prompted, shaking him awake.

"Arthur?" Merlin questioned, rubbing one of his eyes. "What is it? Are you sad again?"

Arthur smiled. "No. No, actually, I was going to take you somewhere."

Merlin perked up. "Right now?"

"Yes," Arthur muttered. "But it's a secret place so we have to be very quiet. You have to promise me that you won't say anything, nothing at all, until I tell you to."

Intrigued, the little boy nodded. "Okay."

"Good. Now, get dressed as fast as you can – without hurting yourself."

Scrambling out of bed, Merlin ran over to where his clothes from earlier had been discarded and put them back on. Arthur helped him with his boots before slipping the small traveling cloak he'd snagged onto Merlin's shoulders. Satisfied with Merlin's appearance, Arthur pulled on his own cloak before picking the little boy up and striding to the door.

"Remember, not a word," he reiterated.

Merlin nodded, yawning sleepily as he rested his head against Arthur's chest. He was asleep again before they had even gone ten paces from his room. It took a little while to leave the castle due to the guards but the king was able to successfully reach the lower town undetected.

"Halt!" a patrol called. "Declare yourself!"

Rolling his eyes in annoyance, Arthur turned around and the two men who'd stopped him snapped immediately to attention.

"Sire! Our apologies."

"No harm done," Arthur answered before continuing on his way.

Reaching the south gate without running into anyone else, Arthur frowned. It had been rather easy to slip away undetected. He was going to have to fix that. Clearly Merlin had taken advantage of the lack of awareness when sneaking off to visit the dragon in the past. Arthur didn't have to wait long in the shadows for Percival, Gwaine, and Gaius to show up.

"Hey princess," Gwaine greeted, "you know, we might want to strengthen the security around here. We only had to hide from one patrol."

"I know," the king scowled. "It's on my list of things to fix. Come on."

The two men on guard outside the gate jumped at the sight of them but relaxed when they noticed who it was.

"Not a word," Arthur instructed to both of them and the two nodded, realizing the unspoken threat he implied.

Reaching the cover of the trees, they didn't begin to veer west until the guards at the gate could no longer see them through the thick trunks.

"So, Gaius didn't actually tell us who we were meeting out here, Arthur," said Gwaine as they made their way through the foliage. "Care to enlighten us?"

"We're seeking out the dragon," the king replied nonchalantly.

Gwaine tripped over a stray root in surprise. "The dragon?" he spluttered.

"Yes Gwaine," Arthur said without looking back. "Gaius believes he may have an idea of how to get Merlin back to normal."

"Is he waiting for us?" asked Percival.

"No," answered Gaius. "Merlin will have to summon him."

"And does he know how to do that still?" Gwaine inquired, doubt pulsating through his tone.

"No but I believe I can instruct him on how to find the power he will need in order to do so," Gaius replied just as confidently as he had when speaking privately to Arthur in his chambers.

It was clear that both Gwaine and Percival were skeptical of this but they wisely kept their opinions to themselves.

With Gaius's instruction, they were able to find the clearing thirty minutes later. The sky was alight with a full moon, the stars twinkling merrily above in the vast cosmos. Evening dew had taken hold of the grass and the soft singing of crickets chirped, mixing with the occasional hoot of an owl passing overhead.

Arthur hated to wake the slumbering child in his arms but they couldn't very well summon a dragon without a dragonlord. Shaking the boy gently, he softly said, "Merlin, it's time to wake up."

Merlin shifted, lifting his head sleepily to look around. "Where are we?"

"In the woods, just west of Camelot," Arthur answered, setting him down.

Merlin rubbed his eyes and yawned. "Gwaine? Percival? Gaius? What are you doing here?"

"Percival and I are here to keep you and the princess safe," Gwaine answered with a wink. "Gaius, well…"

"We need to talk to a dragon, Merlin, and I'm going to help you summon him," Gaius answered, not bothering to beat around the bush.

Merlin was wide awake now. "Wow, a dragon?! We're going to talk to a _dragon?"_ His blue eyes shone with excitement over the prospect.

"Yes," Gaius smiled. "But we have to call him first. I don't have the power to do it myself but with some instruction _you_ should be able to do it."

"Me?" Merlin asked in surprise.

"Yes, Merlin," Arthur said, nodding. "Apparently, you're a dragonlord."

Merlin's eyes, if possible, widened even further than before. "I'm a dragonlord?" he breathed, taking in the revelation. Then his face split into an impossibly large grin. "Really?"

"Yes," Gaius chuckled. "Only a dragonlord can summon a dragon, Merlin."

"What do I have to do?" the boy asked eagerly, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet in anticipation.

"Close your eyes," Gaius instructed. Merlin obeyed, becoming remarkably still. "I want you to reach inward and find your magic. Tell me when you have."

"I feel it," Merlin answered instantly.

"Good," Gaius said, unsurprised that it hadn't taken the boy long to do so. "Now, I want you to search through it until you find something that feels different. It will probably be warm and wild but also familiar. When you find that, embrace it and speak whatever comes to your mind."

"Okay," Merlin mumbled.

Arthur watched the small boy struggle for a full minute without any result. Just when he was about to suggest Gaius try something else, Merlin took in a deep breath and threw his head back. Raw power emanated from his tiny form as an animalistic bellow escaped his mouth.

" _ **O drakons, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!"**_

The cry was guttural and deep, unlike anything Arthur had ever heard before, the sound rattling him to his very bones. Merlin lowered his head and grinned, not even phased by what he'd just done. Gwaine swore loudly and Percival rubbed his ears. The king did both.

Gaius patted Merlin on the shoulder and praised, "Well done, my boy!"

"Who would have thought that _that_ could come out of something so small," Gwaine muttered.

"Who would have thought it would come out of _Merlin?"_ Arthur clarified.

After a moment of silence, Percival asked, "What now?"

Gaius turned to them and answered simply, "We wait."

Arthur wasn't particularly thrilled about sitting around in a dark clearing for all hours of the night but if the Great Dragon would know how to help Merlin he was willing to resign himself to wait without complaint. They didn't end up having to wait long; Arthur was the first to hear the strange rhythmatic beat of wings coming towards them in the distance. He'd heard it before in much unhappier circumstances. His hand instinctively went to the hilt of his sword as he looked up into the sky.

The large form of the Great Dragon circled around before landing in the open space, his massive limbs shifting back and forth as his leathery wings folded against his body. What Arthur was unprepared for was the tiny white dragon accompanying him, its entire body the size of one of its companion's hands. It chirped in excitement, its tail wiggling back and forth in the grass like a cat.

Merlin stepped away from the gathered group, completely unfazed that he was walking towards a beast that could swallow him in one bite. The Great Dragon lowered his head in a respectful bow, his eyes peering down his large snout at the small boy who stopped just a few feet in front of him. The white dragon chirped again, clearly wanting to pounce but refraining from doing so for some unknown reason. Arthur was about to rush forward and grab Merlin away from the beasts when Gaius held out an arm and shook his head.

"Young warlock," the golden dragon greeted in a voice laced with power and magic, "you are very small."

Gaius had said it could talk but actually hearing the thing do so caused Arthur to stiffen in surprise. Never would he have thought it possible for a creature to hold human intelligence but here one was, speaking with perfect annunciation and clarity in a voice any man would have been able to understand. Though he hadn't said anything profound, Arthur somehow knew that this dragon held wisdom that would probably make Merlin's philosophical words sound like drivel.

"Wow," Merlin whispered, "you came."

"Of course I did," the dragon answered with what Arthur could only assume was a chuckle. It shook the very earth as it ground out of the large creature's throat. "Neither I nor Aithusa can refuse your call, young warlock."

Aithusa must have been the little white dragon for it perked up and let out a small roar of its own – though it sounded completely pathetic next to the ancient timbre of its companion.

"What's your name?" asked Merlin.

"I am Kilgharrah, the Great Dragon, and you, Merlin, are my dragonlord."

Merlin glanced back at Gaius, a huge grin on his face. Kilgharrah's large golden eyes lifted, finally acknowledging the others. With slightly narrowed eyes, the massive creature's gaze lingered on the king and Arthur shuddered, feeling as if the dragon was somehow staring right through his soul. And then, to Arthur's horror, the great beast opened his mouth, his jaws inching closer to where an unsuspecting Merlin stood.

The king rushed forward with one thought in mind: _protect Merlin from this monster at all cost_. It didn't register that he was too far away; all he saw was Merlin being burnt to a crisp and his feet had acted on the spike of fear racing to his brain. A sudden blast of gold colored mist escaped Kilgharrah's maw, enveloping Merlin in seconds.

"No!" Arthur shouted. He reached Merlin's side just as the mist dissipated and the little boy's eyes rolled back into his head. Arthur caught him before he hit the ground. Not bothered by the fact that he was mere inches away from the dragon's snout, the king clutched his small warlock to his chest and bellowed, "What did you do to him?"

"Relax, young Pendragon," Kilgharrah replied. "He is merely in an enchanted slumber. I will wake him after we have concluded our business."

Arthur glanced down at Merlin again, believing the dragon's words only after he noticed the boy's chest rise and fall peacefully. His relief, however, was interrupted by a jolt of surprise as the large white head of the smaller dragon unexpectedly appeared, nudging Merlin's sleeping form with its snout. Now that it was away from Kilgharrah, Arthur realized it was a fairly good size, a little larger than one of his fully grown hounds.

"Shoo!" Arthur commanded, pushing the beast away with his free hand.

Instead of leaving however, the white dragon looked at Arthur's hand before rubbing its head against it in an affectionate manner.

Kilgharrah let out a laugh somewhere above him and Arthur, perplexed, looked up to find the larger dragon's gaze filled with silent mirth.

"And what is so funny, dragon?" Arthur demanded, trying again and failing to push the white dragon away from him. It was now rubbing its head along his side and back, greatly disturbing him.

"Aithusa seems to like you, young Pendragon," Kilgharrah answered. "I have known her only to show one other human such affection."

"And who might that be?" Arthur wondered as he stood up with Merlin in his arms and tried to back away from the persistent little beast. It was a futile effort however because Aithusa only followed him.

"Merlin, of course," Kilgharrah answered, unconcerned with the smaller dragon's movements.

Gwaine stepped forward and quickly removed the child from Arthur's arms since he anticipated what the dragon wanted to do before the king did. The moment Merlin was gone, Aithusa pounced. Arthur let out a rather undignified shout which quickly turned into a grunt as the weight of the white dragon crashed fully into his chest as he hit the ground. Aithusa proceeded to attack him by nuzzling her head against his, her scales surprisingly soft and smooth on his skin. Arthur tried to get her off but the annoyingly adorable thing would not relent her mission to smother him with as much love as she could.

"Will someone get her off me?!" he finally shouted in exasperation.

It was Percival who came to the rescue though he did so with great difficulty. Aithusa beat her wings in an attempt to get free of his strong grip, wiggling her entire body and chirping incessantly in her desire to reach Arthur. Alarmed, the king scrambled back a good three feet from where his strongest knight stood. His distance, however, only made her struggle all the more.

Not knowing what else to do and incredibly annoyed now by the racket she was making, Arthur stood up and shouted at Kilgharrah, "What's her name again?"

"Aithusa," Kilgharrah answered humorously.

"Right," Arthur muttered.

Deciding to treat her as he would his hounds, the king strode forward and stared her right in the eye – remarkable blue eyes, he admitted. Motioning for Percival to put her down, the knight happily did as told, his arms now covered in light scratches from her claws. The second she was released, the dragon bounded towards the king.

"Aithusa, _STOP!"_ Arthur commanded in the tone he usually reserved when giving an order that he expected to be followed without complaint.

Surprised by the tone and the body language accompanied with it, the white dragon skidded to a halt and chirped up at him, her head tilted to the side in slight uncertainty. Not allowing her the chance to react, Arthur stepped closer, putting as much wrath as he could into his movements and voice. "Stay right there," he ordered, "and don't you _dare_ move until I'm done speaking with Kilgharrah."

The little dragon's head lowered dejectedly but she did as asked, curling up in the grass and staring up at him with a look of suppressed longing.

Arthur wasn't the only one surprised that his tactic had actually worked.

"Incredible," Kilgharrah muttered, his humor replaced with puzzlement. "Even I have difficulties getting her to obey. You have a talent, young king."

"Yes, but she might not stay like this so I suggest we move on to discuss why we're meeting with you in the middle of the night," Arthur irritably snapped.

Kilgharrah nodded his consent. "Speak on then, young Pendragon."

"I'll get right to the point then," said Arthur. "Do you know of any way to turn Merlin back to normal?"

"The warlock was foolish to allow this enchantment to be placed upon him," Kilgharrah said with slight frustration in his tone. "It could easily have been deflected. But, seeing that it wasn't, I suppose I should save my chastisements for when he has been restored to his proper age."

"And how is that possible?" Arthur interrupted, his impatience laced through the question.

He didn't care that he was speaking to a creature that had once been impossible to stop from destroying his city and had the ability to kill him with a single breath of fire. He wanted his warlock back and he had a feeling Kilgharrah knew exactly what needed to be done to make that happen.

"Patience seems to be something both you and the other half of your coin still have to learn," Kilgharrah mused with a grin. Arthur bristled at this and prompted him with a glare. The dragon merely chuckled in response, aggravating the king further.

"Will you just–" Arthur began but Kilgharrah interrupted him.

"The solution lies in a force greater than you or I can understand, young Pendragon, a force that has puzzled many minds. It is the greatest force of all: _love."_

Arthur stared. "Love?" he repeated skeptically.

"You must find the person that Merlin truly loves," the dragon continued, "one kiss from her will break the enchantment, and Merlin will be a child no more."

"That's it?" Gwaine asked, stepping forward with the sleeping boy in his arms. "We just have to find the girl Merlin fancies."

"Not fancies, Sir Knight," Kilgharrah reiterated, "love is different than desire."

"Has Merlin ever fallen in love before?" Arthur asked, doubtful that he had. When would his manservant even find time to fall in love? Arthur had never seen him fawning over a girl. Oh no, maybe he hadn't found someone yet! With horror, Arthur began to feel a sense of hopelessness settle in his chest.

"Peace, young king, for all is not yet lost," Kilgharrah soothed, sensing his distress.

Arthur perked up. "What do you mean?"

"I happen to know who the young warlock is in love with," the Great Dragon revealed.

Arthur couldn't deny he was shocked that Merlin of all people had actually fallen in love with someone. It was a slightly bizarre concept to the king simply because he'd never considered it before. Even though he didn't know as much as he wished he did about his manservant, Arthur had had his eyes opened the last couple of days as to what kind of man he probably was. Whereas before where he would have laughed and scorned the possibility of any girl falling in love with him, Arthur could now attest that Merlin possessed many talents that would probably attract the opposite sex. But who had managed to capture his heart?

"Who is she?" Gwaine asked, just as eager as Arthur to know Merlin's mystery love.

"The Lady of the Lake," Kilgharrah answered. "She dwells at Avalon. I wish you luck, young knights, for you will need it. Not all is as it seems. I leave Aithusa with you so she may provide extra protection to our dragonlord. Do not let anything happen to him, Arthur Pendragon, or the last thing you will see is the wrath of a fully-fledged dragon."

"Wait!" Arthur shouted because Kilgharrah had spread his wings and taken off from the ground. "What do you mean you're leaving Aithusa with us? Come back here you bloody dragon and take her with you!"

But Kilgharrah was already gone. Arthur turned to the others in dismay, watching the white dragon grin happily up at him before uncurling herself and wandering over to Gwaine. Opening her maw, she breathed a similar mist to Kilgharrah's on the sleeping warlock and Merlin woke. He looked around in confusion until he saw Aithusa staring happily back at him.

"Hey, where did Kilgharrah go?" he asked with a frown.

"He had to leave," Arthur sourly replied. "But he left Aithusa. He said she was going to protect you."

"Really?" Merlin asked excitedly. The small dragon happily chirped in response. "That's great!"

"No it isn't!" Arthur snapped. "I can't bring a dragon back to Camelot, Merlin!"

"Why not?" the little boy demanded suddenly upset.

"Because… because she's a _dragon!"_ Arthur spluttered.

"But I'm a dragonlord," Merlin pointed out. "I can tell her what to do, right Gaius?"

"That is correct," the physician answered.

"Gaius, don't encourage him!" Arthur snapped.

"I don't think you're going to be able to keep her away anyway, princess," Gwaine voiced for Aithusa had already snuck her way back to Arthur's side and was attacking him with another smothering session. "I have a feeling she's going to follow you no matter how hard you try to keep her out."

"I can always have Merlin order her to stay away from the city," Arthur grunted shoving Aithusa back unsuccessfully.

"I will do no such thing!" Merlin stated, folding his arms and glaring up at Arthur. "Aithusa comes with us, Arthur."

"Merlin," Arthur warned, his hands occupied with pushing against the white dragon's head. The chirp she issued almost sounded like laughter. The stupid dragon was _laughing_ at him?!

"She comes with us or I don't come back with you," Merlin stated flatly. "I'll have her fly me back home to Ealdor."

"Are you threatening me?" Arthur asked, completely shocked and momentarily forgetting he was wrestling with a rather strong dragon.

"Yes," Merlin answered, his defiant stance unrelenting.

There was a moment when nobody moved and then Gwaine busted up laughing. "It looks like you don't seem to have much choice now, princess!"

Glaring at the young dragon currently rubbing her body against his thigh and a silently beseeching warlock, Arthur found his resolve beginning to crumble. Gwaine, unfortunately, was right. He couldn't simply allow Merlin to ride off to Ealdor right now. And, as much as he hated to admit it, he had a feeling that Aithusa most certainly would find a way to wiggle herself into the castle. Though he didn't have any idea how he was going to explain the presence of a baby dragon following him everywhere in Camelot's halls, he couldn't ignore the pleading in his little brother's hopeful gaze any longer.

Frustrated, annoyed, and feeling like he was being bullied into this arrangement, Arthur shoved Aithusa away from him with all the strength he could muster. "Alright, _fine!_ " he bellowed. "You win!"

And without looking back, he marched off into the trees, the white dragon happily bounding after him with a rather smug-looking warlock now on her back. Two knights and an old physician followed behind in amusement over the king's defeat and the warlock's triumph, the odd little group making their way back to the castle in utter silence.

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 **Yay! Arthur finally knows the solution to restore his warlock! But wait... something's brewing back in Camelot...** **Next chapter the action starts folks! We're finally going to figure out what Agravaine and Morgana have been plotting in the shadows. Have a great New Year! The next chapter will be posted in five days. :)**

 **Reviews are always welcome! Thanks again for reading.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Happy New Year everyone! Almost a hundred reviews?! I'm crying happy tears. THANK YOU SO MUCH! Here - have another chapter as a token of my thanks!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin**

* * *

07: Flight

For not getting much sleep the previous night, Arthur was wide awake before George quietly entered his room and began his morning chores. The king pretended to be asleep since the last thing he wanted to do in that moment was converse. His brain had been spinning since an hour before dawn, Arthur contemplating everything that had occurred the night before. He still couldn't believe that they had managed to smuggle Aithusa into Merlin's room without anyone seeing her. The little dragonlord had made her fly high above their heads while they entered the city and glide to his window once they were safely inside the castle. Aithusa had made herself right at home on Merlin's bed, remarkably keeping the blanket and sheets in one piece despite the length of her claws.

Needless to say Arthur was _not_ pleased with the arrangement. He was quite terrified that some poor servant was going to come into Merlin's room and find a rather shocking surprise. He ordered the boy to command Aithusa to hide under his bed the second someone knocked on the door and to have her keep silent and hidden until the warlock said otherwise. Merlin had given the command reluctantly but even as a child he understood the importance of keeping a magical creature secret.

A strange part of the king was rather amused by it all. Not only was he now harboring a sorcerer but also a dragon in a city banning magic. He was sure his father was rolling over in his grave. Letting out a sigh, he decided to sit up just as George was throwing open his curtains. The onslaught of light brought a slight hiss of annoyance from the king's lips.

"Good morning, sire," George exclaimed as Arthur's eyes readjusted to the sunlight streaming through the window.

The king grunted in response, rolling out of bed and wandering to his partition screen. Sleepily pulling on his shirt, he ignored George's prattle concerning his schedule for the day. It was too early to take in such unsavory information. He had just finished buckling his boots when someone pounded fervently on his door.

"Come!" Arthur called, stepping around the partition just as Leon, Bedivere, and Gwaine rushed into the room. The moment he saw them, the king could tell that something was wrong. Leon appeared winded, Bedivere worried, and Gwaine agitated. "What's happened?" Arthur demanded, weariness instantly forgotten.

Leon answered, "Sire, this morning Eoghan, the mapmaker's apprentice, was found dead just outside the walls of the citadel."

"Who found him?" Arthur asked, alarmed.

"I did, sire," Leon revealed. "At first I thought he might have been drunk and fallen from the wall but it has a high parapet and there was no smell of intoxication. Gaius is examining the body as we speak but I have my suspicions that this was not an accident."

Arthur picked up on the hidden implication immediately. This was his uncle's doing. The mapmaker and his apprentice both had full access to one thing any enemy of Camelot would desire to get their hands on: the location of the siege tunnels.

Swearing under his breath, the king pushed his way past the knights and sprinted down the hall towards the vaults, his keys jingling loudly at his hip. Leon, Gwaine, and Bedivere followed, the first calling his name, but Arthur didn't slow. Skidding to a halt, he found the door wide open without any sign of forced entry; if Agravaine had killed Eoghan then he would have stolen the boy's keys and had full access. Arthur rushed inside, unlocking the cabinet that contained the map to the siege tunnels with slightly shaky hands. He searched the entire thing but the familiar scroll was nowhere to be found. Cursing, Arthur withdrew his hand and slammed the cabinet shut in frustration.

The map to the siege tunnels was gone, leaving his city completely vulnerable to attack.

He should have seen this coming! How could he have been so stupid? He'd been so caught up with discovering Merlin's secret that he hadn't taken as much care as he should have towards a known traitor!

Hearing the knights shift behind him, Arthur spun around. "Arrest Agravaine and bring him to me at once."

"I'm afraid that's going to be a problem, princess," Gwaine grumbled with a scowl. "The slippery snake is gone."

" _Gone?"_ Arthur repeated, his blood running cold.

Gwaine nodded, looking mutinous. "Elyan never retired from his duties last night. I found him knocked out in one of the spare rooms with a blow to the head; he's fine now – I took him to Gaius. I figured your perfidious uncle was the perpetrator so I went to his chambers. The place was in shambles, Arthur; cabinets and drawers ajar, papers strewn everywhere, his personal effects missing. He obviously left in a hurry. I ran into Leon on my way to see you and he told me about Eoghan. I figured the two were connected."

Arthur swore, slamming his fist against the wall, jarring loose a few scrolls from their cubby holes onto the floor. "Bedivere, please go and gather the councilmen. Tell them I require their presence immediately."

"Right away, sire," he muttered, bowing and taking his leave.

The second he was gone, Arthur scowled and turned to face Gwaine and Leon. "We cannot afford to be lax. Agravaine has stolen the location of the siege tunnels and given them to Morgana. I'm sure of it. She could very well be assembling an army as we speak. Gwaine, how long do you think Agravaine has been missing?"

"I don't know, Arthur," he answered, shaking his head. "Elyan could tell us but he's still unconscious. Gaius believes he should come around soon."

"We can't afford to wait until then," Arthur muttered. "Morgana could be marching upon us right _now._ We must prepare the citadel for attack and evacuate everyone from the lower town. Leon, take Percival and two squadrons of knights; help the people leave as fast as you can. If Morgana and her army come while you're doing this, you are to leave the city and flee into the woods."

"But sire," Leon protested, not at all thrilled with the idea of abandoning the king in an hour of need.

"Those are your orders," Arthur sharply interrupted before stepping forward and resting a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. Relaxing his tone, he continued, "Leon, if anything is to happen, I trust that you will keep my people safe. You can't fight against Morgana's magic and watch over them too. Their lives are the most important thing to me so if Morgana does come, get as many as you can to safety."

Reluctant but loyal to the end, the First Knight stood straight and accepted his duty with a grim nod. "I'll see it done, Arthur."

"Thank you," Arthur said, briefly clasping his wrist before Leon left to carry out the orders. The king turned to Gwaine. "Can I count on you to rally the rest of knights and prepare them for battle?"

Gwaine nodded with a solemn smile, "I'll make sure they're ready."

"Good," Arthur muttered.

The two parted, Gwaine heading for the armory and Arthur for his chambers. He found a rather frightened Merlin sitting on his bed, the small boy holding his knees to his chest.

"Arthur!" he cried, launching himself off the bed and rushing over to the king.

"Merlin, what are you doing here?" Arthur asked, picking up the tiny warlock and setting him down on the table.

"I'm scared," Merlin whispered, his body trembling.

Arthur wanted to comfort him but he didn't exactly have the time to do so; he needed to meet with the councilmen to discuss preparing the city for war as quickly as possible. The only reason he'd returned to his chambers was so he could change into his armor. Reluctantly leaving Merlin sitting on the table, he started changing into his chainmail.

"Why are you scared, Merlin?" he asked while lacing up his red padded gambeson.

"Something bad is coming," he answered cryptically. "I can feel it."

Arthur froze. There had been many times in the past when Merlin had warned him of some unknown danger with his 'funny feelings'. He usually wrote them off as dross but then something bad always happened and he found himself wishing that he'd listened to Merlin in the first place.

"What do you mean something bad is coming?" Arthur inquired, deciding that it was high time he started listening to his best friend.

Merlin shook his head. "I don't know. My magic feels twitchy and my stomach hurts. I've felt this way before…usually when the other boys in the village are about to hurt me," he added in barely a whisper.

Arthur felt a surge of protective anger engulf his veins at the very thought of anyone harming his little warlock but he had to remind himself that the village boys Merlin spoke of were now grown men. Well, if he ever returned to Ealdor and Merlin pointed them out to him, Arthur would be sure to return the favors they inflicted tenfold.

Supporting his chainmail with one arm, Arthur clapped Merlin's shoulder with his free hand. "There may be something bad coming," he reluctantly admitted, "but you don't need to fear, Merlin. I'll protect you."

Merlin smiled warily. He then noticed the chainmail. "Do you need help?"

The king frowned. He did and he knew what Merlin was implying. Glancing at the door he whispered, "Make it quick."

Grinning, the small boy's eyes flashed a brilliant golden hue and Arthur's chainmail lifted out of his hand and slipped over his arms and head, falling perfectly over his shoulders. The magic didn't stop there; Arthur's bracers, coif, armor, cape, and gloves soared from their perched positions on the cabinet and settled on the appropriate areas of the king they were designed to fit. Arthur was amazed by how quickly it took to dress, glancing down at Merlin with slight surprise.

"Thank you," he muttered, grabbing his belt and slipping it over his hips before sheathing his sword. Setting Merlin on the ground, he took his hand and started heading back to the little boy's chambers. "I want you to stay in here with Aithusa until I come for you. Do you understand?"

"But why can't I go with you?" Merlin protested.

Arthur got down to Merlin's eye level and grasped his shoulders. "This is very important, Merlin. I need to know exactly where you are so please remain here. Can you do that for me?"

Merlin didn't look at all happy about the arrangement but he nodded anyway. "Okay Arthur."

The king caught a glimpse of Aithusa under Merlin's bed before he shut the door. Merlin usually never followed orders but Arthur prayed with all the fervency of his soul that he would do so now. The king was on full alert, his body tense and ready to slip into defense mode at any given moment. He had no idea what to expect. Morgana could be marching upon his city within a matter of hours or a matter of days. He needed to be prepared. No matter how much time he possessed, he would defend his city with everything he had.

Shoving the doors to the council room open, he had the attention of every confused man in the room instantly.

"Sire, why have you summoned us?" Lord Kriss asked, disgruntled. "Sir Bedivere said it was a matter of urgency."

"It is, Lord Kriss," Arthur said, striding forward and facing the irritated men. "I'll get straight to the point: Agravaine has betrayed us to Morgana."

"What?"

"Preposterous!"

"I don't believe it!"

" _SILENCE!"_ Arthur bellowed, cutting off any more exclamations of outrage. The lords shut their mouths, astonished. It was a rare sight to see Arthur display the intolerance his father had been so famous for. After glaring at each one of them, the king continued, "I have been suspicious of Agravaine for some time. The Knights of the Round Table have been observing his movements under my orders. Not even an hour ago Sir Elyan was discovered unconscious and Agravaine's chambers abandoned. Not to mention Eoghan, the mapmaker's apprentice, was found dead this morning, and the location of the siege tunnels is lost. Now, instead of listening to all of you demand that I send out search parties for the traitor, you will listen to me. If Agravaine has gone to Morgana, which I have no doubt he has, we have precious little time to prepare before they are upon us – and I'm not fool enough to think they will be coming alone."

"Are you suggesting an attack, sire?" asked Lord Tavers fearfully.

"I fear so, gentlemen," he gravely muttered.

Everyone stiffened in dread but Arthur didn't let that deter his focus. He immediately began to make assignments, giving each man tasks to complete from measuring the food supply to supervising the contribution of weapons to the soldiers. He was just about to end the meeting when the warning bell sounded and Sir Kay burst into the room, his lungs heaving for air and his armor tinged with ash.

"Sire," he gasped, "I come from the Lower Town. It's lost, sire! Morgana – she came out of nowhere – she's leading an army of Southron mercenaries and sorcerers!"

The lords immediately began to panic but Arthur contained his terror with kingly grace. "What of the people?" he demanded over the din coming from the councilmen.

"Fled, as you ordered, Sire," Kay confirmed. "Sir Leon sent me back to report. I ordered the guards to seal the gates but with so many sorcerers – sire, we didn't stand a chance. I fear they will breach the citadel in a manner of minutes."

Arthur rounded on the terrified lords and shouted for them to get themselves and anyone they could to safety. They didn't need telling twice; the room was devoid of all save Arthur and Kay in a matter of seconds.

Kay dropped all formalities as he stared worriedly at the king. "Arthur, you need to leave. We both know that if Morgana finds you, she'll kill you."

"I will not abandon Camelot, Kay!" Arthur stubbornly snapped, rushing from the room with sword in hand.

Kay shouted after him but Arthur would not be swayed. There was no way he was going to leave his people and run off into the woods like a terrified deer! Reaching the courtyard, he found a large majority of knights pressed up against the gates, their bodies quaking as something powerful slammed repeatedly against them on the other side. Other soldiers were gathered on the battlements, their crossbows aimed over the walls, rapidly firing bolts and reloading them in a never ending struggle.

"Gwaine!" Arthur shouted, rushing up to the long-haired knight.

"Arthur, I don't think we can hold much longer," he admitted before grunting as the gates shook in protest.

"How many?" asked the king gravely, joining the man.

Sir Ector answered from Gwaine's right. "From the brief glimpse I was able to get on the battlements, probably around two thousand, sire."

"Some of them are sorcerers," Gwaine muttered.

"I know," Arthur replied, "Kay told me."

"Sire, what should we do?"

"We fight, Ector, like we always have," Arthur answered stubbornly.

"We have no chance!" Gwaine snapped angrily. "Not without–"

But the knight never finished his sentence. The doors were blasted apart, sending everyone flying through the air. Arthur landed painfully on his shoulder, rolling end over end before coming to a stop at the base of the steps leading into the castle. There was a roar as mercenaries and sorcerers rushed into the courtyard, maces, axes, and swords swinging in their hands, cutting down the first few knights they encountered without mercy.

Arthur rolled to his feet, rubbing his injured shoulder. It wasn't broken but definitely bruised; thank goodness it wasn't his fighting arm!

"On me!" he shouted before letting out his own battle cry and rushing to meet the enemy head on.

The few knights who heard the familiar bellow followed their king's example, screaming at the top of their lungs and clashing with the enemy. Arthur met his first opponent, a rather burly mercenary with an ax, and defeated him in two clean strokes. Soon he was engaged with three men at once and his body naturally went into attack mode. Dodge, parry, lunge, strike; he incorporated everything he had learned into every movement he made, bringing down every man who opposed him.

After disarming a man with the most horrendous teeth he'd ever seen, Arthur twisted around to meet his next opponent only to find himself face to face with the very man who had cursed Merlin.

" _You!"_ he shouted, anger flooding his veins.

"Arthur Pendragon," the bald man greeted with narrowed eyes, "you struck me once. You will not do so again."

"You cursed my manservant!" Arthur snapped, his grip tightening on his sword.

"Indeed I did," he wickedly smiled. "I take it you were unsuccessful in finding a sorcerer willing to cure him?"

Incensed, Arthur snarled in reply and leapt forward to attack. His sword was about to strike when the sorcerer flung out his staff. The king met an invisible force that punched him right in the chest and sent him flying. His back slammed into the cobbled floor, the wind knocked from his lungs as he skidded to a halt six feet from his attacker. Gasping for need of air and finding his limbs temporarily frozen in shock, Arthur lay there with his ears ringing. His upper back and chest now joined his throbbing shoulder; whatever the sorcerer had used, the spell had definitely bruised his front.

"I am Alator of the Catha, Arthur Pendragon," the sorcerer announced, suddenly standing over him with his hand raised. "I have been hunted all my life by men like you just for possessing a force I was born with. It is now my privilege to put an end to my suffering, starting with you. Your death will be a victory for my kind! Long live Magic!"

" _NO!"_ someone shouted.

Alator was blasted backward, his body flying through the air in a similar fashion to Arthur's just moments before. The king whirled around to see little Merlin on the steps with Aithusa at his side, his hands flung outward and his eyes blazing gold.

 _What is that idiot doing here?! Didn't I tell him to stay in his room?!_

A mercenary saw the small boy and rushed forward with a maniacal grin on his weather beaten face. All rational thought escaped the king as fear and anger pumped through every vein in his body. He was up and running before his brain fully processed what was going on.

" _MERLIN!"_ he shouted, flinging aside anyone foolish enough to intercept his path with his sword.

Merlin fell back on the stone steps, cowering under the intimidating man, but before the mercenary could do anything Aithusa appeared. Snarling angrily, she launched herself at the threat to her dragonlord, her jagged teeth ripping into the man's flesh. Howling in pain, the mercenary tried to stab the dragon but his blade slipped hopelessly across her scales. Arthur heard the sickening noise of bones breaking before blood flowed everywhere as the man reeled backwards, screaming in agony while clutching his shoulder where his arm used to be. The limb now dangled repulsively from Aithusa's bloodied teeth.

"You horrible beast!" the man bellowed. "I'll kill you!"

It was the last threat he ever uttered for Arthur had snuck up from behind and stabbed him right through the chest. The mercenary choked before falling to his knees, Arthur removing his blade and shoving the body out of the way. Merlin lay petrified on the steps, his tiny hands clinging to the stone so tightly that his knuckles were white.

"Are you hurt?" Arthur demanded, assessing him.

Merlin didn't move. His blue eyes were glossed over, his mouth dropped open in a silent scream.

 _"Merlin,_ are you hurt?!" Arthur shouted more out of panic than anger.

And then the little boy began to cry. Large tears fell from his eyes and before Arthur knew what was going on, he was clinging to him, trembling like a leaf. Arthur hadn't even realized he'd dropped his sword in favor of holding the child until Aithusa let out a roar, sending a jet of flame towards another mercenary who had been sneaking up on them from behind. Arthur turned to see the offender running away screaming with his entire body engulfed in enchanted flame.

This and the surrounding scene of carnage caused Arthur to clutch Merlin protectively to his chest. _This was no place for a boy!_

"Merlin, what are you doing here?"

"My magic," the boy choked out between sobs, "it knew you were in trouble! I had to help!"

"Idiot," Arthur muttered, his exasperation laced with affection, "will you ever do as you're told?"

Merlin didn't answer, instead sobbing harder into Arthur's chest. The king was torn. He needed to get Merlin to safety but he couldn't abandon his men! He glanced up and took in the scene, immediately filling with dread at what he saw. They were outnumbered. _Significantly_. Even now he could spot more red capes on the floor than fighting amidst Morgana's soldiers.

Kay suddenly appeared in that moment, covered in sweat and blood. "Arthur!" he shouted, rushing forward only to halt when he saw the white dragon crouched protectively in front of the king.

"It's alright, Aithusa, he's a friend," Arthur soothed.

The dragon flicked her head back at him before relaxing a little. Arthur motioned for Kay to come forward.

"Since when do you have a dragon?" the knight asked, bewildered, warily approaching.

"Since now," Arthur replied.

Perplexed but seeing now wasn't the time to demand further explanations, the older knight gestured to the courtyard and said, "Arthur, we're about to be overrun. You can't stay here. You need to leave. _NOW!"_

"I will not leave my men, Kay!" Arthur snapped. Merlin winced from his tone. Arthur unconsciously rubbed the back of his head.

"You're going to have to, princess," Gwaine snapped back, appearing at Kay's side. "If you don't go now, you'll be captured and killed."

"I am not about to allow Camelot to fall into Morgana's hands!"

"You will die if you stay, Arthur!" Kay argued back, "And without you Camelot is nothing! I helped raise you in the art of combat and I'm not about to see you fall to a witch! We've fought magic before but never have we had to withstand an army of sorcerers. I hate to say it but this is a battle we cannot win."

Arthur stared hard at Kay, the man who had indeed taught him how to be a knight alongside Leon and Bedivere. Kay was known for never backing down from a fight; his will was almost as stubborn as Arthur's. For him to advise the king to flee… it was a concept Arthur never thought the man would submit to. But he couldn't deny that Kay was correct; an army of sorcerers would not be defeated with sword and sinew alone.

"You're right," Arthur muttered, his eyes darkening.

"Sire?" Kay questioned, surprised; clearly he'd thought he'd have to try harder to convince the king.

"Defeating Morgana and her sorcerers ourselves is impossible," Arthur stated. "Which is why we will need magic of our own to fight her."

Gwaine glanced down at the small boy in Arthur's arms and snarled. "You're not suggesting –? Arthur, he's not capable of fighting all of this himself!"

"I know that, Gwaine!" Arthur snapped. "We have to fix him first!"

Their conversation was interrupted by two of Morgana's soldiers but Gwaine and Kay cut them down, the enemies crying out in anguish before falling to the floor. Merlin whimpered in Arthur's ear, his tiny fingers clutching tighter to his chest.

Kay glanced worriedly at the child before addressing the king. "Arthur, I don't know what you're planning, but you need to get out of here – NOW!"

"Come _on_ , Arthur," Gwaine said, shoving him up the steps.

"Wait! What about you, Kay?" the king protested.

"Someone has to stay to make sure you get out alive," the older knight replied with a solemn grin.

"No!" Arthur protested. "Kay, you'll die!"

"Then it will have been an honor serving you, sire," he said before disappearing back into the fight with a warrior's zeal.

Arthur unconsciously stepped forward to rush after him.

"No!" Gwaine snapped, grabbing the king's arm.

Merlin let out a loud sob. The sound penetrated and cleared his senses, reaching passed Arthur's instincts to fight Gwaine and rejoin the battle. He glanced down at his little manservant and realized that he was the only hope to reclaiming what was about to be lost. Though he hated running away from the fight, Arthur shoved his pride aside and settled for this new-found humility. He wouldn't stand a chance against Morgana without his warlock. Making up his mind, he twisted around and sprinted up the stairs with Gwaine and Aithusa right on his heels.

"We'll take the South Gate," he said urgently as they sprinted away from the battle which seemed to be following them even now through the corridors.

"Arthur!" someone shouted to their left.

The king and Gwaine skidded to a halt just as a now conscious Elyan came running towards them with Guinevere and Gaius in tow.

"Thank goodness!" Guinevere cried when she saw Merlin. "When they attacked the citadel, we went looking for him but we couldn't find him anywhere!"

"He's fine but we need to leave," Arthur stated. "Morgana is on her way. Kay and the others are buying us some time."

"Then you shouldn't waste it," said Gaius.

Arthur frowned. "Gaius, we're not leaving you behind."

"I'll only slow you down, Arthur. Go on."

"But–"

Shouts in the next corridor indicated that their time was almost up.

"Go, Arthur!" Gaius commanded. "Go to the Lake of Avalon and find the Lady of the Lake. _Go._ _Now!"_

"Come on!" Gwaine urged, shoving the king in the shoulder.

Arthur didn't want to leave Gaius behind but there wasn't any time to convince him to change his mind. Regretting his decision, the king turned and ran down the corridor, holding Merlin against his chest and praying they wouldn't meet any interference along the way. They reached the far side of the castle and slipped out through the servant's entrance to the kitchens, running across the abandoned training grounds before disappearing through an archway that would take them to the South Gate.

The area hadn't been populated by enemy soldiers just yet. Morgana, probably so consumed with the easy access to the city through the siege tunnels, had neglected this particular escape route. Aithusa had taken to flying low over their heads, her limbs tired out from running after them. Arthur's bruised chest longed for air and his smarting shoulder didn't favor Merlin's tight grip but he kept running until they reached the cover of the trees.

Slowing to a stop, Arthur turned around, just barely able to make out his city through the thick tree branches. Smoke curled upward from the lower town, distant screams carried on the slight breeze cooling his sweating brow. Arthur's heart ached, desiring nothing more than to return and reclaim what he had lost.

Gwaine, Elyan, and Guinevere had stopped shortly after him, all three taking advantage of filling their lungs with much needed air. Aithusa landed next to Gwaine before trotting back over to Arthur and rubbing her head against his leg in a mournful chirp. It almost seemed like she could feel his pain. Merlin finally looked up and glanced around, his cheeks still wet from earlier sobs.

"We need to keep moving," Elyan said reluctantly.

"Arthur?" prompted Guinevere.

Arthur swallowed, the weight in his chest eroding away into an empty hollow shell. He felt like such a failure. He had been chased right out of his castle, his home, his birthright. This was the second time Camelot had fallen into the hands of his evil half sister; the first that it had happened with him as king. It had barely been a year since the last take over. How weak was he, to allow such a thing to happen again?

"Arthur, we can't stay here," said Gwaine, just as reluctant as the others to continue. "Morgana will be sure to send men after us once she knows you're no longer in the citadel."

Arthur nodded, finally turning his back on his city. Assessing his friends, he noticed Gwaine was sporting a small wound on his upper left arm and a few cuts on his face. Elyan had blood trickling from a split lip but other than that he appeared fine. Guinevere, thankfully, was unharmed.

"We'll need to find someplace to make camp and treat our wounds," he said after assessing that Merlin, physically at least, was fine. "Lake Avalon, if I remember correctly, lies northwest of here. If we pace ourselves, we should reach it by late afternoon tomorrow."

"That is if we don't have to deal with any unnecessary bumps along the way," Gwaine muttered under his breath.

Arthur scowled a little before hefting Merlin so he was sitting on his other hip. "Come on, let's go."

The small weary group trudged through the underbrush, the occasional critter scuttling away at the sound of their approaching footsteps. Aithusa would chase after rabbits and squirrels, her white body slithering almost like a serpent as she pursued the frightened animals. She'd give up before catching her prey, however, merely terrifying them for sport. Her actions were the only thing to bring smiles to the faces of the knights and Guinevere. Merlin had fallen asleep though his fingers were snuggly attached to Arthur's chainmail.

At some point a light drizzle began. Though the trees provided sufficient cover, droplets of water still managed to slip past the canopy of leaves and dampen the head and shoulders of each in the miserable company. Though the king kept a decent pace, his thoughts were occupied with feelings of failure and uselessness.

Why had he listened to Kay and Gwaine? While he fled like a petrified child his men stayed behind to take the fall. Arthur knew that Morgana would first ask them to swear allegiance to her but he also knew his men; they would never surrender to the witch. They would sooner die and that was what bothered Arthur the most: that they would give up their lives for a _coward_.

The farther away they traveled from Camelot, the deeper Arthur's doubts concerning himself grew. He hadn't even been king for a year before he'd lost his kingdom to someone else. Forgoing the fact that said person was a High Priestess of the Old Religion, Arthur continued to wallow. He had killed Caerleon's king and nearly started a war. He'd trusted a man who had been selling his secrets for more than a year. His father would never have made such horrific mistakes. Arthur may feel differently than he did concerning magic but as he compared how stalwart and immovable Uther's reign was to his own… it was pathetic.

 _He_ was pathetic.

Gwaine suddenly grabbed onto his shoulder and Arthur stopped moving, directing his senses outward to assess the area. Raindrops dripped onto the damp earth while just ahead a group of men were working around a wagon. They must have just broken camp since Arthur could make out the patches of earth where bedrolls had previously rested.

Guinevere suddenly gasped and Arthur spun around. A sword pointed right at his beloved's throat held by a woman with long braided blonde hair, round blue eyes, and a mischievous smile.

"Hello," she greeted. "If I were you, I'd keep your swords sheathed."

Arthur motioned for Gwaine and Elyan to stand down. The woman hadn't seen Aithusa yet, the dragon currently huddled near the roots of a thick bush. Surveying the group, the woman raised a curious eyebrow.

"So, what are three knights, a woman, and a small child doing in the middle of the forest without horses or any other supplies?"

"Our business is our own," Arthur answered, stepping forward.

The woman smirked. "You mean it _was_. We don't take kindly to those lurking in the woods near our camp."

"We weren't lurking," Arthur protested, "we were just passing through."

"Well, if you don't want me to run _her_ through, you'll be wise to head down to our caravan." To emphasize her point, the woman moved her sword from Guinevere's throat to her back.

Worried brown eyes met outraged blue before Arthur solemnly nodded. Motioning with his hand, the king caught Aithusa's eye and indicated for her to stay back. The dragon nodded slightly before shrinking further into the underbrush out of sight, the woman still ignorant to her presence. With another poke of her sword at Guinevere, Arthur angrily did as asked and began leading the others down towards the wagon. Gwaine and Elyan followed behind, equally disgruntled.

"Look what I found, Tristan," the woman called.

A man leaning against a tree sharpening a dagger peered around the bark. He had untidy blonde hair set over a worn face that had experienced both great joy and deep sadness. He wore a tan coat over his dark brown vest and blue tunic, his belt sporting another dagger and a sword. His eyes narrowing, the man redoubled the grip on his dagger and motioned for a few men to leave their duties and surround the newcomers.

"Knights," he surmised. "Where are your horses?"

"We don't have any," Arthur admitted, trying to contain his anger as the other men stepped forward and relieved them of their weapons, leaving them defenseless.

"Knights without horses?" Tristan teased. "That's quite pathetic, isn't Isolde?"

The blonde woman smiled in amusement as she joined his side. "I must admit it's something I haven't seen before."

Now they were up close, Arthur was able to see some of the cargo they carried in the wagon. He instantly deduced the scoundrels and indignantly accused, "You're smugglers!"

"We prefer to think of it as free trade," Isolde corrected with a smirk.

"It's forbidden by edict of the king," Arthur pressed, wishing they hadn't taken his sword and that his arms weren't currently carrying a sleeping five year old.

"What are you going to do, arrest us?" Tristan goaded. "If you hadn't noticed, _sir knight_ , there are more of us than there are of you and you're weaponless. I don't think we have anything to worry about. Besides, we've been doing this for a long time. We're too quick and too smart for the half-wit king in Camelot."

Arthur bristled but before he could defend himself, Guinevere stepped forward. "You would do well to hold your tongue before any more atrocities slip past it!" she boldly warned. The smiles slipped from the smugglers faces, their expressions filled with surprise as the maid continued with passionate fire. "Arthur is a great man and worthy king. You have no idea the burdens he alone has to carry nor do you possess any of the characteristics of honor and integrity he naturally displays. While you cowardly prowl through the shadows engaging in a work that is quite despicable, the king toils with his own hands to ensure his people are being treated with equality and justice. Arthur Pendragon is ten times the man you will _ever_ be!"

Touched but also afraid for the woman he loved, Arthur stepped in front of Guinevere, shielding her from Tristan's wrath. The smuggler stepped closer, his eyes bearing angrily into Arthur's.

"Do you agree with what she said, sir knight? Do you believe your king is as great as this woman claims?"

Arthur slowly shifted Merlin's weight, the little boy's head settling into the crook of his neck. Truthfully, Arthur didn't feel he was as great as Guinevere made him out to be. But this man didn't know he was the king. He thought him a knight and a knight would defend his king to his last breath. So why couldn't he bring himself to answer?

"We do," Gwaine stated, stepping forward and answering for all of them.

Tristan stepped back, a firm scowl placed in his weathered face. "Well, this is what I think of your king." The man spat into the dirt at Arthur's feet. Arthur tried not to wince. "Now, your foolish king aside, we still want to know why three knights are wandering through the middle of the woods."

Noticing that Tristan's hand had moved to his sword, Arthur decided to tell at least a bit of the truth. "We're heading North."

"Lot's kingdom," said Tristan suspiciously. "What would bring you there?"

"Like I told your friend, our business is our own," Arthur repeated.

Tristan scowled, inching closer. "Is it now?"

"Mmmm… Arthur?" Merlin asked sleepily, the boy raising his head to rub his eyes.

Arthur redoubled his grip on the warlock as his name registered in the smugglers' minds.

"Arthur?" Tristan repeated. "Can it be?"

Arthur closed his eyes in dismay. "Thanks, Merlin," he grumbled.

"What did I do?" the boy asked, confused.

Instantly Tristan's sword was aiming at his heart, the others following his example. "And here I thought you were merely a knight," Tristan sneered. "Tell me, what brings you to the woods without horses and supplies, Arthur Pendragon?"

"Arthur, who is that?" Merlin asked, fearful of the sword pointing at them.

"Don't worry, Merlin, I'm handling this," Arthur soothed before turning back to Tristan. Seeing that the game was up, he sighed. "My kingdom has been overrun by a sorceress. I am traveling north to seek the aid of one who will help me. If you let us pass, I will allow you to leave my lands unscathed with the understanding that you are never to set foot in Camelot again."

"You're making demands?" Tristan scoffed. "You are in no position to threaten us, _your_ _majesty_. And just who are you seeking in the north? Lot is no friend to the Pendragon. He will not help you."

"It is not Lot's aid that I seek," Arthur snapped.

"Then who are you looking for?" Isolde asked in a much gentler tone than that of her companion.

Before Arthur could think of something to say, a crossbow bolt flew through the air and struck one of Tristan's men in the neck. The poor fellow let out a gurgled scream before dropping like a stone. Merlin whimpered and buried himself into Arthur's chest again.

"Run!" Arthur shouted as Southron soldiers came tearing through the trees, screaming and converging on the unsuspecting smugglers.

Gwaine grabbed their swords out from the arms of Tristan's men before following Arthur, Elyan, and Guinevere into the trees. Tristan and Isolde trailed after them. The small group hid behind a ridge of earth, poking their heads up just enough to see Agravaine circle around, searching the grounds for a sign of his nephew.

"They haven't found the cargo," Isolde whispered.

"They will," Tristan muttered, "but they weren't after the cargo, they were after you! I just lost everything I worked for, for some good-for-nothing king!"

Arthur scowled. "That's quite something coming from a smuggler."

"I wouldn't have to be a smuggler if it wasn't for your rotten taxes, would I?"

"Those taxes help protect the people of this land!"

"My people are dead," Tristan snapped. "You call that protection?"

"Excuse me," said Gwaine, "sorry to interrupt but –"

Noticing what Gwaine was getting at, Arthur briefly commanded Guinevere to watch Merlin before grabbing his sword from Gwaine's hands and rushing off to meet Southrons approaching them from behind. Tristan ran alongside him, both men taking out the first attackers as Gwaine and Elyan passed to deal with the others. One Southron managed to slip past the men, aiming for the two women and Merlin's hiding place. Isolde deflected the man's blade twice before he used his free arm to smash his elbow into her forehead. As Arthur struck down his opponent, he noticed Isolde on the ground with the Southron standing over her, his blade raised high.

"Arthur!" Merlin shouted in desperation for aid.

The king ran forward, shoving his blade through the Southron's back. The man fell to the ground with a groan. Tristan, having taken care of his foe, returned to his lover's side.

"Isolde," he whispered, cradling her head. "We had a deal. Partners for life, remember?"

Isolde winced, leaning into his touch. "When have I not kept my promises?"

Tristan bent down and kissed her forehead just as Gwaine and Elyan returned.

Arthur glanced around. "We need to keep moving. There'll be more coming soon."

"Then go," Tristan retorted. "There's nothing stopping you."

"Come with us," Gwaine invited. "There's strength in numbers."

"I'm choosy about the company I keep."

"He saved my life, Tristan," said Isolde glancing up at Arthur. "Thank you."

"But none of this would have happened if it wasn't for them," Tristan pointed out stubbornly.

"She's injured," said Elyan. "She needs shelter and rest."

"We have to reach the lake though," countered Gwaine.

Arthur frowned, thinking. He looked over at Merlin residing in Guinevere's arms. Struck by a sudden idea, he stepped forward and decided to throw caution to the winds. "Tristan, Isolde, I know we got off on the wrong foot but I may have a way to help you. If you would allow it, Merlin might be able to heal your wounds."

"Arthur!" Gwaine cried in outrage.

The king held up a hand. "The time for secrecy is past, Gwaine! We can't leave them here, not with Isolde injured and Agravaine's men scouring the woods. We involved them in this and I'm not about to allow any more ill-will to befall them."

"But you don't even know if Merlin can heal her!" Gwaine protested.

"What are you talking about?" Tristan demanded, clutching Isolde protectively.

"My manservant is a warlock," Arthur revealed, "if you allow it, I could ask him to try and heal you."

"Your manservant has magic?" Tristan spluttered incomprehensibly, "But…"

"Will you accept his help or not?" Arthur reiterated, unwilling to go into the details of why he, a Pendragon, was harboring a sorcerer and offering his services.

"You are supporting and offering magic to heal me?" asked Isolde in disbelief.

"Yes I am. Contrary to what some people may believe, I am not my father. I can't guarantee that Merlin can do it but –"

"I'll do it, Arthur." Arthur turned around. Merlin stood on his own two feet, his little face filled with determination. He walked away from Guinevere and looked up at his king. "I'll do it," he repeated.

"This is your manservant?" Tristan asked in disbelief while staring at the child.

Ignoring him, Arthur got down on one knee and assessed his little warlock. "Are you sure you can?"

Merlin nodded before tentatively walking towards Isolde. Her blue eyes were filled with wonder, Tristan's with mistrust. "M-May I?" Merlin asked, holding out his hands.

Isolde glanced encouragingly to Tristan who eventually sighed. "Very well," he muttered, allowing the boy to step closer.

Placing his hands over the wounds on Isolde's head and arm, Merlin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Opening them, they flared with gold and the two smugglers gasped. When Merlin pulled his small hands away, the cuts were gone.

"Wow, it worked," he said, sounding just as surprised as the others felt.

"You didn't think it would?" Arthur wondered, confused.

Merlin rubbed his head sheepishly. "Well, actually, it's always been hard for me to do healing magic. It only works once in a while." Arthur smacked Merlin upside the head. "Ouch! What was that for?"

"For you being an idiot," Arthur griped as Guinevere came over and picked a slightly teary-eyed Merlin off the ground.

"Well done, Merlin," she praised, sending Arthur a disapproving glance.

"Arthur hit me again," Merlin sniffled. "Why does he have to be such a prat?"

Tristan and Isolde stared in disbelief as the king of Camelot plucked Merlin out of Guinevere's arms and poked him in the stomach after settling him on his hip. "Why do you have to be such an idiot?"

The little boy batted the finger away. "Don't do that!" he giggled.

Arthur smiled, his eyes softening. "Seriously though, Merlin, well done."

The little boy's eyes lit up as he turned to Isolde. "You're all better, right?" he asked.

"Yes, thanks to you," she answered, still in awe over what she was seeing.

"I don't believe this," Tristan muttered. "He's a sorcerer!"

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"And you let him use magic!"

"Yes."

" _Why?"_ the smuggler demanded.

"Perhaps we can answer that question later?" Gwaine suggested. "Agravaine and his men are still scouring the woods. We need to keep moving."

"You're right," said Arthur.

"Where are we going?" Merlin asked as the small group began to head north.

"We're going to see a sorceress," Arthur answered.

Merlin's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yes, we're going to ask her for help," continued Guinevere.

"With what?" asked Merlin.

"You'll find out soon enough," Arthur answered, ruffling his hair.

"Okay," Merlin giggled. "Oh!" he cried before shouting over Arthur's shoulder, "Aithusa!"

The king had forgotten all about the dragon! Turning around, he needn't have worried; Aithusa appeared, flapping her small wings, chirping reproachfully. She did not look happy about being left behind.

"Sorry Aithusa," said Arthur, setting Merlin down to greet her.

"That's a dragon!" Tristan cried, unsheathing his sword.

"She won't hurt you!" Merlin promised, a protective hand on her neck. "Right, Aithusa? These are our new friends."

The dragon chirped, tilting her head curiously, her nostrils flaring as she sniffed the air. Tentatively, she took a step closer to Isolde and Tristan, the latter gripping the hilt of his sword. Aithusa made a clicking sound with her tongue before rubbing her head against Isolde's leg. She let out a surprised breath before reaching out a shaky hand and stroking the dragon's scales.

"She's _beautiful,_ " she muttered.

Transfixed, Tristan also reached forward and, after sniffing his fingers, Aithusa happily nuzzled them with her snout. Arthur was surprised; part of him thought the dragon would lash out and snap the man's hand off due to his earlier calloused attitude towards them.

"You have good hearts," Merlin said, patting Aithusa's head. "Aithusa likes people with good hearts. The purer the heart the more she likes you – that's why she likes Arthur just as much as she likes me, right Aithusa?"

The dragon nodded vigorously before leaping onto Merlin, rubbing her head against his cheek and beating her wings happily, stirring up dirt. Merlin laughed, grabbing Aithusa's head and shaking it lightly back and forth. Arthur had never seen the like of it before, a human playing with a dragon. Unfortunately, now wasn't the time or necessarily the place to continue such fun.

"Merlin, we need to – _oof!"_

Aithusa had decided she'd had enough of Merlin, instead leaping unexpectedly onto Arthur's chest and sending him once more crashing to the ground.

"Aithusa!" he complained, attempting in vain to get her off, _"Aithusa!"_

The dragon stilled. Arthur made a shooing gesture with his gloved hand and Aithusa reluctantly removed herself from his chest. Regaining his feet, Arthur noticed her head gloomily lowered to the floor. Rolling his eyes slightly in exasperation, he rubbed her head and, slightly embarrassed from the spectacle, quietly consoled, "I'm not mad, Aithusa. We just need to leave before any of Agravaine's men come back."

The dragon's stunning blue eyes lifted, intelligence shining within as she caught his gaze. She nodded minutely in understanding before letting out a chirp and slithering over to Merlin, rubbing his side affectionately. Merlin giggled before hugging her around the neck.

"We need to be on our way," Arthur stated, turning to Tristan and Isolde who were now both staring at him incredulously. "I won't force either of you to come with us but your chances against Agravaine are better in our company than alone."

"What about my cargo?" Tristan demanded.

"Will you forget about your blasted cargo?" Arthur snapped, agitated. "It's either your cargo or your life! Which one is more important to you?"

And without waiting for an answer, the king bent down, scooped Merlin into his arms, and once again began trekking his way through the damp underbrush. Gwen, Elyan, and Gwaine immediately followed him, Aithusa trailing behind with one last chirp in Isolde and Tristan's direction. It almost sounded like a call to tag along. The two smugglers shared a glance before Isolde shrugged her shoulders and made her way after the knights, Tristan reluctantly bringing up the rear with one last glance at his forsaken merchandise.

* * *

 **Yes, I decided to skip episodes in the season four timeline and go right to the finale. Yes, this means that Lancelot will not be coming back to seduce Guinevere nor will there be a moment where she and Arthur have a falling out. I know that happened in the legends and the show but this is fanfiction and I'm a hopeless romantic so I can do what I want, right? :) Next update in five days the time of the little warlock will end. *sniff sniff* But there's a lot of good to come after, I promise! I'll be implementing a lot of the season finale with my own little twists. I hope you like what I give in coming chapters. I'm so excited to share everything with you all! Until then, review please! :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**OVER 100 REVIEWS?! *dies* Thank you SO MUCH everyone! Since I have some personal stuff going on tomorrow, I've decided to give this chapter to you a day early. Don't worry; the next chapter will come out five days from today instead of six because I'm nice and I appreciate all the love you're giving to this little creation of mine. :3 There were many people who were happy I skipped the scene about Lancelot and Gwen. I'm glad I'm not the only one upset with that particular episode and the drama that followed! Arwen all the way! Anywhos, here's the last chapter with our little warlock. Enjoy it folks!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

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08: Avalon

The woods were crawling with Southrons. Arthur had to change course so many times to escape notice that he felt at this point they were running in circles. Tristan had already made his voice heard about what he thought of all this traipsing through the woods and his patronizing was really grating at Arthur's nerves. It also wasn't helping his morale at all. The king was already silently suffering from his own inner doubts; hearing someone else consistently question him and his worth as being the leader of this company was not helping in the slightest.

Merlin looked up at him occasionally, at one point even putting his hand on the king's cheek. Arthur glanced down at him trying to smile in reassurance but feeling that he'd failed miserably. Merlin had become quite silent himself, retreating into his earlier stage of frightened shock that had plagued him since they left the castle. Stopping to rest just after once again successfully hiding from a small scouting group, Arthur leaned his head back and let out the breath he'd been holding.

"This is getting ridiculous," Tristan voiced, ever the first to complain after they avoided yet another possible attack. "Do you even have a plan or are you just darting through the trees without a thought as to where you're actually going?"

Arthur grit his teeth, his brow furrowed as he tried to hide his hurt behind anger. He already knew he was a failure. Why did this insufferable man have to pour more salt into the wound?

"We're trying to reach the Lake of Avalon," Guinevere answered, her gaze fierce and her anger at this man's lack of faith in her love sending a biting edge into her tone. "If you hadn't noticed, the woods just happen to be crawling with men who would wish nothing but ill-will upon us!"

"I've never heard of this lake before," Isolde muttered, her compassionate tone the exact opposite of her lover. "Is this where that sorceress is that you're seeking?"

"Yes," Arthur muttered, peeking out from behind a tree.

It was dark now, too difficult to see if the area was Southron-free or not. But they couldn't stop to make camp here, especially since the soldiers had barely passed through. Gwaine and Elyan were doing everything they could to cover their tracks with twigs and scuffed marks of earth but, unfortunately, Arthur had to admit that his uncle was a significant tracker. It wouldn't be long before he picked up their real trail.

"How do you know she'll even help you?" Tristan asked. "Your manservant – which I still find difficult to believe is a five year old _child_ – _he_ may have accepted you but _I_ know you are no friend to those with magic. I have many friends who are sorcerers and none of them have anything good to say about you."

Arthur closed his eyes, the hurt he was feeling slamming into his heart. "We'll just have to hope she feels differently than your friends."

Repositioning Merlin on his other hip – Arthur refused to let anyone else carry the young warlock – the king walked out from behind the tree only to find his path blocked by an irate Southron. Arthur leapt back just in time, the sword slicing through the air where he had been only seconds before. The Southron let out a scream of surprise as his next strike was deflected by a rather angry white dragon. Aithusa slammed into the man's chest, her teeth immediately going for the exposed jugular. Arthur made sure to press Merlin's head into his neck so he couldn't see the horrifying death. The boy was trembling again, crying openly and clinging to Arthur, completely traumatized.

"Run!" Gwaine shouted for the downed Southron had managed to alert his comrades with his dying scream and a steady stream of men were rushing through the trees towards them, bellowing at the top of their lungs.

"Aithusa!" Arthur called as he bolted through the woods with the others. The dragon, teeth now stained red, left her victim and took flight, following after the others.

Arthur tried to ignore Merlin's crying, holding the boy's head while supporting the rest of him with his other arm as he ran as fast as he could, dodging branches, roots, and loose rocks. It was hard but he couldn't comfort the little warlock right now. He needed to focus on getting away from their pursuers. The whizzing sound of a crossbow bolt slipped through the air right above Arthur's head.

"We can't outrun them, Arthur!" Gwaine shouted over his shoulder.

"We're all going to die and it's your bloody fault!" Tristan accused, ducking behind a tree to avoid another arrow.

Before Arthur could retort, Merlin's roar shattered his eardrums **.** _ **"O drakon, Kilgharrah, fthengomai au se kalon; su katerkheo deuro!"**_

"What the heck was _that?"_ Tristan demanded as everyone in the company slightly faltered in their pace.

Merlin immediately resumed his crying, burying his head into Arthur's shoulder. Just as confused as everyone else, the king decided it was best not to stop while being chased by bloodthirsty men so he kept on running. He was grateful to see the others had the same thing in mind.

"Cut them off!" an angry shout came from somewhere behind them. Arthur immediately recognized the voice of his uncle.

The king leapt over a fallen log, his chainmail tugging at his shoulders as it bounced down with the force of gravity. He was exhausted. Not only had he been running for hours but he'd also been carrying Merlin and a full set of armor for that entire time. True, he could have relinquished the small warlock to another to hold but for some reason he felt the need to stay as close to the boy as possible. That aside, he still couldn't deny his exhaustion and he knew the others couldn't either. They were running themselves ragged and their speed was slowing. They needed to rest!

A sudden roar sounded from above and Arthur briefly glanced up to see a shadow fly across the tops of the trees. Hope sprung from the king's chest just as he heard Agravaine's terrified cry.

"Take cover!"

Another roar followed by a sea of flame fell from the heavens as the Great Dragon poured his fury upon the Southrons. Screams of panic were cut short as men were devoured in fire, their corpses nothing but ash and bone.

"There's _another_ dragon?!" Tristan cried in dismay. He hadn't been the only one to stop and hide behind a tree at Kilgharrah's arrival.

"He's a friend," Arthur assured over Merlin's sobs. "Come on, he's bought us time that I'm not willing to waste."

The screams of dying soldiers faded into the night as the small group continued their trek through the woods. After another twenty minutes, Arthur slowed to a stop. He had a feeling that Agravaine and his men weren't going to be a problem ever again. It was strange, knowing that his uncle was probably dead. Part of him was sad but for the most part Arthur felt that justice had finally caught up with the traitor. Setting his feelings aside, he glanced down at Merlin who had finally stopped crying. The small boy was continuing to tremble though, his tiny hands embedded into Arthur's chainmail.

"We should rest here," he announced to the weary group.

"I'll get some firewood," Gwaine offered, wandering into the woods.

Guinevere made to join him but Elyan shook his head before leaving instead. The young maid frowned before walking over to Arthur. She glanced worriedly at Merlin whose grip on the chainmail refused to slacken. Tristan and Isolde, not knowing what else to do, settled at the base of a tree. Aithusa wasted no time wandering over and nuzzling Isolde with affectionate little chirps. The blonde woman smiled softly, stroking the white scales in response while Tristan watched with a slight frown on his face.

"Merlin," Guinevere gently coaxed, "are you alright?"

Merlin shook his head which was still buried in the crook of Arthur's neck. The king and maid shared a glance before the former silently gestured to give them a moment. Nodding in understanding, Guinevere walked over to another tree and sat down, hugging her knees to her chest. Arthur wandered to his own tree before gently prying Merlin's fingers from his chainmail and setting him down on the ground.

Silent tears had begun falling down that small elven face again, the blue orbs wrought with despair. Little gasps escaped Merlin's mouth, an attempt to recover from the earlier deep sobs. Arthur compassionately took Merlin's hands and stared into his eyes. It was hard to see everything clearly but the light of the moon was helping.

"Merlin, are you alright?"

The small boy shook his head, scrunching his eyes shut.

"What's wrong?" Arthur prompted.

Merlin remained silent, another round of silent sobs shaking his body. Arthur sat back, observing him. He knew the effect war could have on a human being. He still remembered the first time he'd been exposed to it. He'd remained holed up in his chambers for days, refusing to talk to anyone, even his father. Gaius had been the one to finally make him crack, waiting in the silence until Arthur had broken down and cried in his arms. It was one of the few times in the young teen's life that he had allowed someone to see him shed tears. To this day Gaius had kept his promise of discretion, not telling anyone of that moment of sorrow – to which Arthur was very grateful.

Letting out a sigh, the king gently pulled the small boy back into an embrace, holding him and stroking his hair. "Tell me what's wrong, Merlin. I can't help you if you won't talk to me."

Arthur waited, knowing that patience was required now. It was extremely difficult to keep his frustration at bay but Arthur was again reminded that it was Gaius's patience that finally broke through to him. He hoped his could do the same for Merlin. He didn't like how quiet he was. It was unnatural. It wasn't Merlin at all.

"I did something bad," Merlin finally whispered before letting out another sob.

"Merlin, it's alright," Arthur consoled. "What do you mean you did something bad?"

"That man," Merlin loudly cried, drawing the attention of Isolde, Tristan, and Guinevere, "d-did I k-kill him?"

"What man?" Arthur pressed, confused.

"He was going to hurt you!" Merlin continued, his distress so great that he didn't seem to hear the king. "I couldn't let him hurt you! My magic reacted on its own. It flung him away from you. I didn't mean to do that. I killed him! I know I did!"

Finally realizing that Merlin was speaking of the sorcerer, Alator, who had tried to kill him back in Camelot, Arthur clutched the boy to his chest and soothed, "You didn't kill him, Merlin."

Merlin pushed away, anger alight in his small blue eyes. "You can't know that, Arthur!"

Though he hated to admit it, Merlin was right. But he wasn't about to tell the kid that he'd murdered someone! "Well, you can't know that you killed him either," he retorted, not knowing what else to say.

Merlin hadn't expected that. Surprised, the small boy bit his lip and rubbed his face. "Maybe," he mumbled, "But that doesn't make me feel any better! I called Kilgharrah and he… he…" –another sob shook Merlin's throat – "I made him do that, Arthur! I made him attack those men. I'm a bad person!"

"No you're not!" Arthur defended. "Merlin, you are not a bad person! You're the greatest person I know. You're kind, compassionate, and selfless. Tell me, what made you summon Kilgharrah just now?"

"I… I wanted to protect you," Merlin answered, trying again to regain his normal breathing. Wiping his face, he mumbled, "I didn't want to see you get hurt."

"There," Arthur said, shaking his shoulders lightly, "you see? Why would a bad person care about somebody else?"

"They wouldn't," Merlin muttered.

"So, since you called Kilgharrah to protect me and the others does that make you a bad person?"

"No…?"

"No, it doesn't," Arthur stated with more conviction than the child.

"But I hurt all those people!"

"Merlin," Arthur firmly held the little boy, "you _protected_ us. None of us would be here if it wasn't for you."

"Mommy said hurting people is bad! I shouldn't do it – especially with magic! It's wrong!"

"Merlin, in your dreams, did I ever hurt the men coming to attack you?"

The boy paused. "… yes…?"

"Does that make _me_ a bad person?"

"No!" Merlin cried. "You're good, Arthur! The best!"

Arthur tried not to smile as he continued, "But I had to hurt people."

"But you didn't want to hurt them, you wanted to protect me," Merlin rationalized.

 _"Exactly,"_ Arthur stated. Merlin's eyes suddenly widened with understanding and the king smiled, realizing he'd finally gotten through to the boy. "You didn't want to hurt those men but you used your magic as a dragonlord to call Kilgharrah so you could protect your friends. You hurt that man back in Camelot because you wanted to stop him from doing something bad to me. That doesn't make you a bad person, Merlin. It means you're willing to do what is right and protect those in need. Besides, don't you remember what you said earlier? Aithusa only likes people with pure hearts and – besides me of course – she likes you the best. If you were a bad person, she wouldn't like you at all."

The little boy glanced over at Aithusa who was currently receiving a series of rubs from Isolde, her eyes closed in what could only be pure bliss. Merlin giggled slightly before looking back at Arthur. Without a word, the small child launched himself into the king's chest, hugging him fiercely. Surprised and trying to ignore the light chuckles coming from an amused Guinevere and Isolde, Arthur wrapped his arms around Merlin and squeezed him a bit before ruffling his hair.

"All better?" he asked.

Merlin nodded with a smile, rubbing his eyes.

Gwaine and Elyan reappeared with bundles of firewood in their arms and in no time at all – thanks to a slight breath from Aithusa – a fire was started and the group gathered closer for warmth. Everyone was hungry but they were also incredibly exhausted. No one felt like going off to hunt any kind of game and so they settled for sleep. Merlin was the first to pass out in Arthur's lap, his head resting against the king's shoulder. Arthur, noticing his breathing change, glanced down and smiled at the small boy.

"He lasted longer than I thought he would," Guinevere muttered, smiling sadly at the little warlock.

"How far are we from the lake?" Gwaine asked.

Arthur shook his head. "I'm not entirely sure. We've been running all over the place. Not to mention there are so many clouds covering the stars I can't determine if we're traveling in the right direction anymore."

"I can't say I'm surprised," Tristan said, deciding now was as good a time as any to dig once more into the king. "You don't seem to be able to lead very well at all since you allowed your castle to be overrun by a witch."

Arthur's anger rushed to the surface. "Why do you hate me so much? Go on, speak your mind!"

"You're no longer a king so I don't think I need to answer your demands," Tristan retorted.

"I may have lost my city to Morgana but that doesn't mean I've lost my crown!"

"Stop it, both of you!" Guinevere ordered. "Now is not the time to fight."

"No, but it is the time for _answers!"_ Tristan retorted. "For one, I'd like to know why a king makes a child his servant and forces him to use his magic for his own gain – especially a king who is known for hating the practice!"

"Merlin is not a child and I don't force him to do anything!"

"What do you mean he's not a child?" Tristan demanded, sweeping his hand through the air, "He's not even ten years old!"

"Merlin may appear to be a five year old but he's actually seen twenty one summers!" Arthur stated.

"What? How is that possible?" Isolde asked as Tristan scoffed in disbelief.

Arthur decided to give them a brief explanation of Agravaine's betrayal, Alator's curse upon Merlin, and the cure they were seeking in order to get him back so they could fight against Morgana.

"So you're going to this lake because a sorceress who resides there can cure your manservant?" Tristan surmised.

"That's right," Arthur replied with a weary sigh. "Look, I know that I might not amount to much -if anything- in _your_ eyes but Merlin is my best friend and I refuse to lose him. Did I know about his magic before? No. But how could I execute someone for something they were born with?"

"Born with?" Isolde repeated. "I've never heard of someone being born with magic."

"Me either," Tristan muttered. "I don't know everything about magic but I'm not fool enough to believe that people are born with it. You have to study the art. It takes years of practice. My friend Toby is a sorcerer. He told me that it took him fifteen years to master the basics."

"But Merlin isn't a sorcerer," Gwaine said. "He's a warlock."

"And that means?" Tristan sneered.

"Warlocks are born with magic while sorcerers have to study it," Arthur answered, "at least, that's what I gathered from how Gaius explained it. The point is, I'm not going to kill Merlin."

"Only because you need him in order to get your kingdom back from that sorceress," said Tristan. "I bet the second he's succeeded you're going to throw him onto a pyre."

"Tristan," Isolde chided but the smuggler didn't apologize.

Arthur would have stood up and stocked away if Merlin hadn't been resting on his chest. Deciding that he didn't have to explain himself to the bigoted smuggler, the king instead shifted so he lay on his side, his back facing them with Merlin cuddling close to his chest. Aithusa settled herself near her dragonlord, her head resting by Arthur's shoulder.

"We should rest," Guinevere muttered.

"I'll take first watch," Elyan offered.

There was a rustling as everyone settled down for the night and soon the crackling of the fire lulled Arthur to sleep.

[][][]

The king woke a short time later when the light of dawn was just beginning to poke its way out on the horizon. From the position of the sun, Arthur deduced that during their flight they had traveled a little off course. The king shifted slightly but stopped when a small noise of protest reached his ears. He glanced down to see Merlin curled into his side, his nose pressed right up against his chest. Arthur frowned. Great, without meaning to, he'd slept next to Merlin again! And this time of his own free will! What on earth had gotten into him?

Glancing over his shoulder he found Guinevere staring at him with an expression of both worry and amusement. The king frowned before moving away from a slightly protesting warlock. Repositioning the boy so he was right up against Aithusa's side, Arthur made his way over to his beloved and sat down. She lightly nudged him.

"I thought I knew you," she smiled.

"What are you talking about?" Arthur asked, his cheeks slightly darkening.

"That's twice you've cuddled up next to Merlin instead of me. Are you sure I shouldn't be jealous?"

"Guinevere!" Arthur gasped, scandalized as he looked around. It was with utmost horror that he realized the others were awake and had heard every word. Groaning, he buried his face in his hands.

"What does she mean by that, princess?" Gwaine asked, his eyes dancing with mirth. "You've slept with Merlin before?"

"We have _not_ slept together!" Arthur shouted, leaping to his feet, his face as red as a cherry.

"I should hope not," Gwaine muttered, "because then I'd feel slightly left out."

Arthur's jaw fell open. "D-Don't even… please tell me you're joking..."

Gwaine let out a roar of laughter, clutching his stomach and wiping tears from his eyes. The others laughed as well though not as deeply. Arthur wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

Frustrated, he drew himself to his full height and shouted, "It's not funny!"

"Oh but it is!" Gwaine chuckled. "I'm just sad Percival and Leon aren't here to witness this! Wait! Don't tell me… is that why you weren't in your own room the other day? You were with Merlin?"

Now Arthur _really_ wanted to run away. "Now look what you've done," he muttered to Guinevere.

She smiled apologetically but even he would have been blind not to see the laughter in her eyes. She was enjoying this! That cheeky little… she was just as bad as Merlin sometimes!

"Care to share, Arthur?" Elyan prompted, his own grin as wide as Gwaine's.

"You slept with your manservant?" Tristan asked, raising a skeptical brow. "I knew some noblemen took advantage of their servants but you didn't strike me as the type."

"Oh, for the love of - ! Merlin and I _do not_ have that kind of relationship, alright? For goodness sake, I see him as my _little_ _brother_ not some kind of – of –"

"Lover?"

 _"GWAINE!"_ Arthur bellowed, scandalized.

There was another round of laughter but it was interrupted by a small voice.

"Why are you shouting so early in the morning, you clotpole?" Merlin grumbled, rubbing his eyes as he groggily sat up. "Can't you see some of us are trying to sleep?"

"You're the only one who's still trying to sleep, you idiot," Arthur snapped, temporarily forgetting that Merlin was a child.

Merlin yawned, looking around at the still amused adults. "The sun's barely waking up!" he complained. "Why do I have to get up now?"

"Because we have a long way to go and we can't waste anymore time," Arthur stated. "Come on then," he commanded, walking over and picking Merlin up. "Let's go."

"I know he said they aren't a couple but he clings to him an awful lot doesn't he?" Isolde teased, speaking to Guinevere.

Arthur closed his eyes, praying for patience. He refused to turn around because he knew he would see nothing but mocking grins. He was only carrying Merlin because the little idiot had fallen back asleep the moment his head rested against the king's shoulder. Everyone knew of his feelings for Guinevere. They were as plain as day. Just because he was being the overly protective big brother did _not_ mean they could ridicule him like this! He was the _king!_ Such rumors would _not_ be tolerated!

Gwaine walked past, patting his shoulder, "It's okay, princess. As long as you share him, I think there's no problem with your relationship."

"Gwaine," Arthur seethed through his teeth, "I'm going to kill you if you don't shut up right now."

Gwaine laughed. "Don't worry, Arthur, I know you don't really feel that way about Merlin."

Arthur tried to instigate his own revenge by throwing the assumption right back at the riotous knight. "And how do I know _you_ don't feel that way about him?"

Gwaine rolled his eyes. "Given my reputation, I thought it was obvious that I am solely interested in the _opposite_ sex."

"Hmph," Arthur grumbled, upset that the knight hadn't take offense like _he_ had to such accusations. "Well, given _my_ reputation I'd say the same thing about myself."

"But you were enchanted for most of those encounters," Gwaine argued, "How are the people to know that you truly feel that way and not the other?"

"I am openly courting Guinevere you idiot!" Arthur snapped.

"And who's to say you're not courting men in private?" the knight teased.

Covering Merlin's ears with his hand and shoulder, Arthur let out a colorful array of some very choice swear words before reaching over and clipping Gwaine in the back of the head. "If you ever say something like that to me again, I'll strip you of your title and banish you from Camelot," he threatened, his voice deadly serious.

Gwaine, realizing that he had overstepped his boundaries, help up his hands in surrender. "Alright, Arthur, I'll stop."

The group, acknowledging that teasing Arthur further would not be in their best interest, decided to move on to other subjects. While Elyan and Gwaine listened to Tristan and Isolde speak of their most recent smuggling efforts – much to Arthur's chagrin – Guinevere wandered up to his side and apologized.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, "I didn't think there would be any harm in teasing you."

Arthur sighed. "I'm not mad at you, Guinevere. It's just… this whole situation has brought out things about myself that I'm not entirely comfortable with."

"You're used to hiding your true feelings," she stated. "That's something you were taught since you were a child, Arthur. A king should keep his emotions hidden from his people so he can remain strong, right? But that's the problem, Arthur, you have such a tender heart. It's difficult for you to hide how you truly feel. I know your relationship with Merlin is unique but in the past few days I've seen how you truly feel about him."

"And what have you seen exactly?" Arthur asked, afraid of what she would say.

Guinevere smiled. "Underneath the teasing banter between you is a powerful connection that can't be severed. You hurt when he hurts, you cry when he cries, you protect each other when threatened, you support and lift one another when the other is weary, and you would do anything to see each other happy. Your love for one another is not exactly like siblings. It isn't romantic either. It's something more. You're bonded in ways that not even I fully understand."

Arthur had never consciously thought of his relationship with Merlin in this way but now that he considered it, he knew it was true. Everything Guinevere had said was correct. He glanced down at his little warlock and quietly contemplated everything that had happened between them from their first meeting until this moment.

Before Merlin life had been mundane, pointless. But after he'd stumbled his way into Arthur's life the king realized that was the moment he'd begun to find himself. Life took on new meaning. He cared more about his people, he allowed himself to be vulnerable, he chased after his dreams despite what others thought, and he did what he felt was right. Merlin was the cause of it all and, as he contemplated further, Arthur realized that from the very beginning he felt drawn to the man. The need to protect him, to keep him close, was staggering. If anyone else did anything to hurt or threaten Merlin, Arthur would immediately become defensive. Only he was allowed to do anything like that to Merlin because he knew he would never actually hurt him in any way.

He couldn't understand this overbearing protectiveness but it was there. It had always been there. His concern and care for his manservant was like nothing anyone had ever seen but Arthur knew that he would die for Merlin if needed. He loved the idiot too much to allow anything bad to happen to him. What he felt, it was a fierce, protective kind of love – like the kind shared between twins - but even that was a mediocre example. Arthur wasn't sure there were even words to describe it. He just knew that without Merlin, his life would have little meaning. The emptiness in his chest when he'd thought he'd lost the warlock was testimony of that. He couldn't survive without Merlin. He knew that now more than ever.

But did Merlin feel the same way he did? Did he feel this connection, this overbearing need to also have him in his life? It truly scared the king, knowing he was so connected to a person and he realized he wouldn't be content until he knew that Merlin felt the same way he did. He was counting on the idiot to be able to explain the connection they shared.

Arthur sighed. This was just another thing he had to add to the list of things to ask Merlin once he was restored to adulthood.

"Arthur?" Guinevere prompted.

The king shook his head. "I'm fine; just thinking." He then nudged her gently, a teasing smile on his face. "You're not really jealous, are you?"

"Of your relationship with Merlin? Of course not! You two need each other."

"I need you too."

Guinevere smiled warmly. "I know but for different reasons and I'm okay with that."

"Are you sure?" Arthur asked hesitantly.

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "There have been -and will always be- times when Merlin will be the only one who can reach you. And that's alright. In fact, I'm grateful. If it wasn't for him, I don't think I would have fallen in love with you. You wouldn't be the man you are today."

The corner of Arthur's mouth lifted. Checking to make sure the warlock was still asleep, he quietly muttered, "I suppose I was a right prat before he came along, wasn't I?"

Guinevere laughed. "Indeed."

"Don't tell him I said that!" he urged. "I don't want him to get a fat head or anything."

Her light giggle lifted his soul as she squeezed his arm. "Your secret's safe with me."

Merlin woke a little while later and the boy's nonstop chatter soon occupied the group for the next two hours. At this point they were all starving so while the others set up a temporary camp, Gwaine and Elyan wandered off to hunt, successfully returning with a couple of rabbits which were promptly cooked over a warm fire. After everyone had their fill, they set off again.

It was just after noon when they finally reached the Lake of Avalon.

The surface of the water was still, almost like transparent glass. Large mountains reached for the clear heavens behind, their points covered in thick patches of pines and shrubs. The large body of water was surrounded by trees and if Arthur hadn't known it was here, he was sure he never would have stumbled upon it. The dense earth turned slightly to silt as they all came to a stop near the lake's shore.

"Now what?" Tristan asked, looking around. "I see no sorceress."

Unfortunately Arthur didn't exactly know how to respond. He didn't have the foggiest idea what was to happen next. Merlin had gone unusually quiet once they reached the lake, his eyes wide and his body trembling again.

"Merlin?" Arthur prompted, concerned.

"There's magic here," the boy whispered. "Great magic."

Aithusa nodded next to him, her eyes observing the lake with that deeper intelligence all dragons seemed to possess. Arthur was slightly disappointed that he couldn't feel anything. Glancing around, he caught Gwaine's eye. Both seemed to be thinking the same thing: what happens now?

They didn't have to wait long to find out, however, as the lake suddenly began to glow and Guinevere gasped, "Look!"

Every eye turned as the surface of the water began to ripple. Remembering that the Lady of the Lake was the girl Merlin loved, Arthur began to wonder just exactly what she was going to look like. What kind of girl would capture his warlock's heart?

The answer came in the form of a young maiden rising steadily from the water. Her long dark hair hung in loose curls, her body covered in a remarkable purple gown fit for a princess. Her eyes, the color of the earth, and her countenance fair, the Lady of the Lake slowly approached, her form somehow completely dry even though she had just emerged from the tarn.

Arthur had to silently agree with Gwaine's low whistle of approval; the Lady was indeed beautiful.

She stopped in the shallows, her countenance shy but her eyes soft with compassion. She gazed down at Merlin and Arthur saw the small flicker of surprise and amusement before warmth and love encompassed her smile. Her eyes sought the king's then and she inclined her head.

"Welcome to my lake, my king," she greeted, her voice as warm as her gaze. "I know why you have sought me."

"Can you help us?" Arthur asked, his tone laced with desperation and hope.

The Lady's smile was full of reassurance as she raised her hand and motioned to the little warlock. "Merlin," she called, speaking his name with a caress, "come."

And without further encouragement, without an ounce of hesitation, the young boy walked forward, his tiny hand slipping out of Arthur's as easily as water gliding across the skin. The king's eyes began to sting as he watched the small child walk away from him. He couldn't understand it. He was happy he was about to get _his_ Merlin back but he couldn't help feeling as if he was losing something precious in the process. Little Merlin had shattered every wall over his heart and buried himself so deeply inside that the king felt as if a piece of him was breaking. He was afraid of losing the small boy who had helped him accept magic, accept Merlin. But he would never be able to know exactly what Merlin had done – how he felt about being Emrys, about serving him, about _anything_ – if the child remained. And so, with a breaking heart, Arthur let him go.

"Goodbye," he whispered, a lone tear falling down his cheek.

He felt a light pressure on his hand and found Guinevere standing close to him. He took comfort in her physical touch even though a part of him wished it had been the touch of someone much smaller.

Merlin stopped at the water's edge, looking up at the Lady in awe. "Who are you?" he asked, his small voice laced with wonderment.

The Lady of the Lake smiled down at him before kneeling in the water. Reaching forward, she took his head in her hands and whispered, "One who loves you very much."

And then she leaned forward and kissed him.

Arthur knew the spell was broken the very moment the air rippled with a shockwave of magic. Golden light flew away from the warlock with a massive force, ruffling Arthur's hair and leaving his body slightly numb. The flare of light was so bright that the king had to shield his eyes, only lowering them when the glow dimmed. Eagerness took hold and Arthur stepped forward, his eyes searching…

 _There!_

A familiar crop of black hair, gangly limbs, and pointy shoulders sat in the water, the young man himself still very much wrapped up in a rather intense kiss. The Lady was the first to break contact, leaning away to caress Merlin' prominent cheekbones.

The warlock's eyelids flickered open. "Freya?" he suddenly gasped, looking around wildly. "What - How?"

The Lady, Freya, gently put a hand over his lips. "I don't have long, Merlin. You were enchanted."

"I was?" Merlin muttered, "but I don't–" -He gasped- "Arthur! Gaius! There was a sorcerer!"

"Merlin, relax," Freya soothed, taking his hands. "Everything is alright."

Merlin searched her face and Arthur easily made out the desperation in his voice, "You have to go, don't you?" he whispered.

"I do," she said sadly. "I'm sorry, my love. I wish I could stay."

"I wish you could too," Merlin mumbled.

They leaned in and shared another kiss before Freya began to stand. Merlin tried to join her but she kept a hand on his shoulders. "You might want to stay put," she said with the hint of a giggle.

Arthur then realized that when Merlin grew, his clothes did not. Well, that was a problem! It wasn't as if they had any spare clothes lying around for him! Merlin lightly cursed, his ears suddenly turning red. Freya giggled before motioning to the shredded remains he'd been wearing before now floating in the shallow water.

"I think you can work a little magic on those," she chuckled.

Merlin frowned. "Maybe…" Gathering the scraps of cloth, he bundled them together before whispering some words that sounded like the usual gibberish Arthur was used to hearing from sorcerers. Merlin's eyes glowed and the cloth transformed from shredded strips into trousers. "Well, it's something at least," Merlin muttered. "I guess there wasn't enough for anything else."

The ladies looked away as the warlock pulled the trousers over his thin form, securing them to his waist. Merlin still hadn't noticed he had an audience, however, and Arthur couldn't blame him. From the immediate confusion he'd expressed after returning to normal, the king was firm in his belief that Merlin had no recollection of anything from his time as a boy. If that were true, then he had no idea that everyone knew his secret.

 _Great! This is going to be absolutely entertaining,_ Arthur thought bitterly. Though part of him found it amusing to see what his manservant's reaction would be, another mourned that the memories he had made with the tiny warlock would be one-sided. Disheartened, the king looked back up just in time to see Merlin and Freya bidding farewell. _Trust Merlin to fall in love with some woman who lives in a lake_ , he sadly mused. If his relationship with Guinevere was like this, it would be heart wrenching.

Freya wrapped her arms around Merlin's shoulders and kissed him with all the love and passion she possessed. Merlin held her close, kissing her just as deeply.

Freya pulled away, caressing the base of his neck. "Goodbye Merlin," she whispered, "I'll see you again someday."

"Goodbye Freya," Merlin muttered, his shoulders sagging. "I love you."

"I love you too. Take care and remember, everything is alright."

Merlin, confused and sad, held onto her hand until she simply faded away, leaving a rather dejected warlock standing in the water. His hand wiped a tear from his cheek as a shaky breath left his lips. He tilted his head back and took several large gulps of air, no doubt gathering his emotions. The pain cut him deep, any fool could see that, and Arthur felt like a part of himself was experiencing the warlock's loss. Heart heavy, he felt the need to comfort his brother. He stepped forward the same time Merlin turned to face the shore and that's when the warlock finally realized he wasn't alone.

"Arthur!" he shouted, stepping back in the water. And then, in typical Merlin fashion, he tripped and fell.

Water splashed all around him as he stared in slight horror, noticing Arthur wasn't the only one waiting on the shore. His eyes widened in fear and he scrambled to his feet, slipping a little as he practically flew out of the lake and landed at Arthur's feet, his knees sinking into the silt. The poor man looked as if he was facing his death sentence, his skin pale, his breathing haggard, and his eyes wide with silent pleading. It took Arthur a moment to realize why Merlin was reacting this way.

 _He doesn't know that I know! He used magic just now and he knows that I saw him do it!_

Poor Merlin. The adorable idiot had no clue that Arthur had accepted him and everything he was days ago.

"Arthur, please, I can explain!" Merlin cried, "What you saw – it–"

"You used magic," Arthur finished.

From Merlin's reaction one would think that the king had slapped him. Shaking like a leaf, Merlin's eyes focused on Arthur's boots. "Yes, sire," he quietly confessed before panic spurred him to try to further explain, "But I use it for you, Arthur! _Only for you!_ It's yours; it's always been yours!"

Deeply touched, the king astounded everyone in the vicinity by falling to his knees and wrapping Merlin in an embrace. "I know, you idiot," he muttered, tears burning his eyes.

Merlin gasped, pulling back and searching the king's face in disbelief and bewilderment. "You…?"

Arthur smiled, slightly embarrassed. "I know you have magic, Merlin. I know that you were born with it. I know that you're a dragonlord, that you're Emrys, and that your magic is a force for good."

The warlock's mouth dropped open. "What? How?"

Arthur smirked. "It's a rather amusing tale. I suggest you get comfortable - I might as well tell it now since you need to understand what's going on."

"Wait - you brought me here?" Merlin asked. "To the lake?"

"Yes, Merlin," Arthur answered, rolling his eyes.

"How did you know-"

"Merlin, if you don't shut up you'll never learn the answer to that question - and any others I'm sure you probably have."

The warlock frowned. "Alright. I'm all ears."

"Good. I suppose I should begin with when Alator hit you with that spell..."

The others had sat down around them to take part in the story but Merlin only had eyes for his king. He listened with rapt attention and utter disbelief as Arthur revealed what happened with the five year old warlock. He left out some of the more embarrassing details – like the tub and bed incident – since he figured those he could share in a more private setting with just the two of them. By the time he concluded, Merlin was kneeling there with his head bowed and his hands clenched into fists.

Arthur reached forward and grasped his shoulder. "I accepted your magic from the moment your five year old self made that blue orb, Merlin. You've been helping me all this time and now I ask if you will help me again. Morgana has taken Camelot and I don't have any way of getting it back without you. Will you help me?"

When Merlin finally looked up it was to find tears traveling freely down his cheeks. He stared at Arthur in wonderment. "You… accept me?" he whispered.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Of course, you idiot, how could I not?"

Merlin let out a shaky laugh, rubbing his eyelids.

"For what it's worth, we accept you too, Merlin," said Guinevere.

The warlock jumped, suddenly remembering the others were there.

Gwaine's grin was large as he flipped his hair out of his face. "We're going to miss the tiny you but I got to say, it's good to have you back, mate – magic and all."

Merlin stared in disbelief at the others, holding a small ounce of unspoken curiosity towards Isolde and Tristan before his gaze landed on Aithusa who was nestled happily next to the couple.

"Aithusa!" he cried. The dragon lifted her head and immediately rushed to his side. Laughing at her antics and hugging her fiercely, Merlin grabbed her head and shook it back and forth, "You've gotten big!"

"Yes, could you command her in future not to jump on me please?" asked Arthur, rubbing his chest. "I'm pretty sure she's going to kill me one of these days in her excitement."

Merlin chuckled, "I think I can do that."

A moment of silence passed before Arthur cleared his throat. "So… what's your answer, Merlin?"

The dragonlord stopped stroking his kin's neck to give Arthur his full attention. Looking him straight in the eye with an intensity that could rival even the strongest of knights, Merlin spoke with all the certainty of his soul, "My magic and my life are happy to serve you even in death, Arthur. That will never change. When do we leave?"

Overcome by the wave of loyalty he felt emanating from this man, Arthur had to gather his emotions before being able to properly speak. Clearing his throat, he finally answered, "Most of the people escaped into the woods when Morgana attacked. We need to find them before making any kind of attempt to regain the citadel. I'm not fool enough to believe you're invincible, Merlin, even if you are Emrys. Besides, you'll need to save your strength for fighting against Morgana."

"Are you actually giving me permission to use my magic, sire?" Merlin asked with a disbelieving grin.

"I thought you were intelligent, Merlin," Arthur teased, "do I really need to repeat myself?"

"No," Merlin said simply, "I just wanted to make sure you were okay with committing treason."

"I've knowingly been harboring a sorcerer in my castle for the last three days. I think I'm alright with breaking the law."

"Warlock," Merlin corrected.

"What?"

"You said sorcerer."

"Shut up Merlin."

The manservant grinned and Arthur was secretly pleased to see that the smile reached all the way up to his eyes. Standing up, Arthur offered him a hand and Merlin immediately took it. The rest also clambered to their feet.

"So, any idea where we're going to find your people?" Tristan asked with his arms folded.

Arthur raised a curious brow. "You're coming with us?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Might as well since you made us lose our cargo."

Arthur scowled. Again with the cargo?

Merlin looked amused. Knowing who Tristan and Isolde were –Arthur had introduced them during his story- the warlock couldn't resist teasing the king. "So not only are you consorting with warlocks but also with smugglers? Dare I ask if you've made friends with anyone else I should know about?"

"I told you everything already, idiot," Arthur replied while flicking one of Merlin's large ears. "Do pay attention, will you?"

"Ouch," Merlin complained, rubbing the appendage. "Do you always have to be such a cabbage head?"

The king smirked. Clapping the warlock on the shoulder, he turned to the group. "I don't believe Sir Leon would have led the people far away from the city since I told him we'd find them if we had been overrun. More than likely they're somewhere in the Forest of Ascetir."

"Then we'd best start looking," said Gwaine.

"What about the Southrons?" asked Isolde. "We might run into them again."

Arthur glanced at Merlin. "I don't think we'll have to worry about them now - thanks to Kilgharrah."

Merlin frowned. "You told me I called him. Do you think he…?"

Arthur knew what he was hinting at. "If he did kill all the men – including my uncle – then it saves me from having to execute him myself. Even if we did happen upon any more of them, I have faith we'll be able to beat them."

Merlin smirked. "Now that I'm no longer an emotionally distraught five year old you mean?"

"Whatever are you talking about Merlin?" Arthur huffed teasingly. "You didn't think I was referring to your magic, were you? Because, as far as I'm concerned, I've only ever seen you flee for the nearest tree to hide behind while we do the real work taking down the threat."

Merlin scowled. "Well I couldn't very well use my magic out in the open, now could I? Did you honestly believe that all those times a bandit was hit with a fallen tree branch, tripped over nothing, had their weapon ripped from their grasp–"

"Alright, mate, we get it," Gwaine chuckled. "You've helped us all along and none of us realized it."

"Yes I have," Merlin said proudly. "It's about time you figured out that just because you're the best warriors in the five kingdoms doesn't mean you won all those fights without a little magical help."

"About that," Arthur muttered, wrapping an arm around Merlin's shoulder, "you're going to have quite a bit of explaining to do when all this is sorted."

Merlin frowned, his shoulders tensing beneath the king's arm. "Um… what exactly do I need to explain?"

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Everything, Merlin – and when I say everything, I mean _everything._ You've been lying to me all these years and even though I've accepted you and your magic that doesn't mean I'm not upset that you kept things from me for almost a decade!"

The warlock flinched. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

Arthur felt a strange sense of justice making him feel guilty. Now that the child was gone, the king could fully unleash his pent up frustrations. Merlin had been sneaking around behind his back from the moment they met and he wanted to know everything he'd been up to. A part of him was excited to finally learn the truth but another was wary. How much of his accomplishments were actually Merlin's? What exactly had the man suffered through in silence? How many times had he saved his life? Why had he not trusted him?

That was the biggest question causing the king's greatest distress: _why hadn't he_ trusted _him?_

Surely there had been many opportunities for Merlin to confide in him – Arthur could even recall a few – so why then had he not confessed the truth? Arthur told Merlin everything. The man knew all his secrets, his worries, his hopes, his dreams, his insecurities; had Merlin ever once did the same with him? The answer was painful, even in his thoughts.

Only once, when he'd told him he grew up without his father after Arthur had vocally mourned never knowing his mother.

But after that incident, Merlin _had_ met his father - and kept the truth from him. He hadn't bothered to disclose anything further concerning his private life and that hurt the king more than he wanted to admit. He thought he knew Merlin but the more he contemplated, the more he realized he knew nothing at all. How could he have trusted someone so completely who was willing to lie to him? How could he continue to do so now? He had every right to string Merlin up, flay him alive, and execute him for treason and betrayal.

But he could never do something like that to his warlock; for even though Merlin was no longer five, Arthur still saw him as family.

Though his blood relatives had betrayed him, the only thing Merlin did wrong was not trust him with a secret that, if divulged, would have cost him his life. Arthur could not condemn the man for being secretive. How many times had he proclaimed to Merlin's face that magic was evil? How that must have _hurt_ , hearing your best friend label you as such.

The voice of five year old Merlin haunted him in that moment: _"Am I a monster, Arthur?"_

The king suddenly felt ashamed. His consistent callous words towards magic, though spoken in ignorance, had rammed repeatedly time and time again into Merlin's already fragile opinion of himself. He remembered how downtrodden his manservant had been the day after Uther died. When Arthur had said magic was pure evil, Merlin looked so defeated. Arthur hadn't even noticed! Yes, he was consumed with grief at the time but how could he not have seen? His words had been so heartless he might as well have physically whipped Merlin from what he'd said.

What had he done?

His anger abated, Arthur stopped walking and took Merlin's shoulder; the others ahead of them hadn't noticed they were no longer following.

"Arthur?" Merlin questioned hesitantly.

The king stared into eyes that were far older than they should be; eyes that were full of pain, guilt, sorrow, and yes, even fear. Without a word, Arthur embraced the warlock he called brother and muttered, "No matter what you tell me, I'm not going to turn against you, Merlin." – He pulled away but kept his hands on those too thin shoulders – "But I do want the truth, alright? I want to know _everything_ , the good and the bad. Don't leave anything out. I promise you that nothing you have to tell me will change the way I feel towards you."

"And what do you feel?" Merlin whispered, his voice trembling.

Arthur smiled reassuringly, trying to ignore the hurt he felt over Merlin being scared of him. Did he really think so little of him?

"I feel grateful," the king honestly replied, "Though I don't know everything you've done, I know that you are a great man. I know that your magic is a gift and that it deserves to be free. I know that I never would have become the king I am today without you and I know that I could never ask for a better friend… so you can stop trembling over the idea of being banished or something. You're my little brother, Merlin, in everything but blood. Nothing you have done _or will do_ will change that. You hear me? _Nothing_."

Arthur had expected Merlin to grin and cry like a girl over this confession but the warlock reacted the exact opposite. He did begin to cry, but they weren't tears of joy.

Shaking his head, Merlin's eyes rested on Arthur's boots. "You don't know what I've done, Arthur. You're right, you deserve to know everything. I never wanted to keep secrets from you. But I've made so many mistakes. I don't feel I deserve the honor you're trying to give me."

Arthur began to doubt but then he crushed those feelings immediately. He believed in Merlin. He always had. He might not know everything the warlock was hinting at but one thing was clear: Merlin's loyalty to him was real. And that was enough to placate his fears and strengthen his trust.

Arthur squeezed Merlin's shoulders, regaining his attention. The warlock's tortured soul leapt out from those unique blue irises and Arthur wished he could make the pain go away. This man did not deserve to carry such burdens.

"Merlin, now might not be the time to tell me everything but have a little more faith in me."

"I have all faith in you!" Merlin protested.

"Then _believe_ _me_ when I say that I will stand by my words," Arthur insisted. "I will not banish you from my side. Contrary to what you may believe, I actually enjoy your useless prattle. Not to mention I'm not willing to give the position of Court Sorcerer and First Advisor to anyone else."

"Court… ? First…?" Merlin couldn't speak properly.

Arthur smirked. "Well, look at that, I finally managed to render you speechless!"

"You're serious?" Merlin breathed. "You're not joking?"

The king rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't joke about something like this, Merlin."

"But…"

"Don't tell me you're going to refuse the position," Arthur said with a raised brow, "because you don't have a choice in the matter. I'm the king after all and what I say is law."

Merlin was gaping at him like a fish.

"Hey! Are you two having another lover's quarrel or something?"

"Gwaine!" Arthur shouted, exasperated. "What did I tell you about–"

"I know, I know," the carefree knight grinned, "but seeing as we've been standing here waiting for you to come to grips with each other for the last five minutes, someone had to say something to get your attention."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Come on," he muttered to Merlin, "we'll discuss this later."

Merlin was still staring at him in disbelief. With another eye-roll, the king shoved his warlock forward. The man stumbled a bit before regaining his footing, offering his sovereign a glare. Arthur smirked but kept walking. He didn't noticed the meaningful glance shared between the two smugglers who had witnessed this exchange nor the pride brimming in the eyes of Guinevere and his knights as he took the lead with Merlin at his side. All Arthur could focus on was how right it felt awarding a man most considered irrelevant with titles of such grand significance. Merlin belonged at his side and Arthur was determined to see that he was given what he so rightly deserved, no matter what.

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 **SPOILER ALERT! Next chapter title: The Sword in the Stone.** **Are you excited yet? ;)**

 **Review please!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Thank you so much for the reviews everyone! I'm really proud of the way this chapter turned out. I hope you all like it! :D**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin**

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09: The Sword in the Stone

They stopped to make camp shortly after the sun had set. In order to avoid getting too close to Camelot they had to travel directly east from the Lake of Avalon and then proceed south to get to the Forest of Ascetir. They were still a ways away but the weary group had been through quite an ordeal; running for their lives for many leagues –along with the emotional stress – left none complaining when the king decided to make camp for the night.

Everyone pitched in gathering firewood. Arthur was in the process of picking up a rather large branch when Tristan came up behind him.

"Well, well, well, look at you," he jibed. Arthur stiffened, trying not to grind his teeth together. "You're actually getting your hands dirty. But then again, why shouldn't you? You're just like everyone else. There's nothing special about you, is there?"

Goaded and angry, Arthur retaliated, "Maybe you're right. Maybe I don't deserve to be king."

"Well, that's all right, because you're not," Tristan continued, flipping a stick in the air, "not anymore."

The smuggler passed by with a smirk on his face and it took everything Arthur had not to turn around and punch him. He didn't need Tristan pointing out his failure. He was well aware that his throne had been stolen from him! But, unfortunately, Tristan had a point, didn't he? What kind of king ran away, leaving his city, his knights, and the remainder of his people in the hands of an angry witch _?_

 _A cowardly one_ , a nasty voice replied in his head that sounded suspiciously like Morgana.

 _But he_ had _to leave!_ He silently argued to himself _. He had to restore Merlin to his proper age because he was the only one who could truly dethrone his deranged sister and reclaim what had been lost!_

Arthur froze as these words sunk in. Shaking his head, he felt his shoulders slump and his heart drop. Never would he have thought he'd find himself having to rely on Merlin to reclaim his kingdom. Admitting that his skills were meaningless in this case was a heavy blow to his ego. All he'd done was run away and now he was relying entirely on his warlock to fix everything. The smuggler rubbing his cowardice in his face wasn't helping matters either.

Arthur also had a horrible feeling that his previous achievements were really things he couldn't take credit for at all. He was terrified that Merlin was the true hero while he was the bumbling idiot who hadn't noticed the sorcerer under his nose for a decade. Some king he was!

Merlin had always been the better man; Arthur didn't want to admit it but it was true. Merlin had a knack for bringing people together. He inspired others, he made people feel valued, and he was never afraid to be himself. And then Arthur had to go and find out he was the most powerful sorcerer of all time so he couldn't even say he was a better warrior!

Tristan was right; there was nothing special about him.

Merlin was the special one.

This didn't cause Arthur to be bitter, however. No, in reality he was depressed. He didn't feel he could compare. He didn't feel like he deserved Merlin's loyalty. Did Merlin only stick around because Arthur humored him? Was it only for destiny? Supposedly he was the Once and Future King but maybe that King's only purpose was to be a figurehead for Emrys to do his job in restoring magic to the land and uniting the five kingdoms. If any man could do such impossible things, Merlin could. He was special. He was different. He had everything he needed in order to succeed.

So perhaps that was all Arthur was good for… Merlin would need noble influence in order to get the other kings and queens to agree upon a united land. Arthur could bring those people together and provide a place for Merlin to work his magic, for lack of a better term, and change the royals like he had changed him.

So then why was that so depressing, thinking that was his only purpose? Arthur wanted to be so much more but, given his previous failings and the uncertainty of what he'd actually accomplished in his life, he didn't feel like he was capable of having much to offer. He was nothing compared to Merlin and that hurt because he wanted to be on equal ground with the warlock. But Merlin was leagues ahead of him. He had always been better; someone to look up to. If Arthur could be half the man Merlin was then he just might be _worth_ something.

But he wasn't special.

He wasn't even a king anymore.

He was nothing.

Staring at the meager sticks in his hand, Arthur dropped the wood and wandered away from the camp. Dropping down at the base of a tree, the king folded his arms and stared off into space. He'd never felt more inadequate, more useless, than he had in his entire life. For the first time he questioned whether it would be better for everyone if he didn't even bother trying to take back the throne. He didn't think Morgana had what was needed to rule but there must be someone better than him who could.

He didn't realize he had a visitor until a very familiar sigh breathed somewhere to his right. "You know, if the air were any thicker with your melancholy, I think the grass would begin to die."

Arthur didn't say anything nor did his frown lift as it normally would from such a jab. He was too depressed to come up with some witty comeback. He did notice that Merlin's bare chest was now covered with Tristan's overcoat. The man had probably given it to him to hide the scars everyone couldn't help noticing; they were just another thing to add to the _long_ list of things Arthur wanted to ask Merlin. He particularly wanted to know how the warlock had received what he suspected to be a _serket_ _sting_ on his back.

"Arthur, what's wrong?" Merlin gently pressed, concern evident in his voice.

The king remained tightlipped. He didn't want to admit how deeply Tristan's words had hurt him. But Merlin, using his usual gift for reading the king's emotions, figured out the source of Arthur's distress with ease.

"Don't listen to Tristan. He doesn't know you."

 _He might not, but I don't even think I know myself anymore_ , Arthur thought miserably.

He had made so many mistakes. His kingdom had fallen into the hands of a horrible witch, he'd allowed his uncle to mosey throughout the castle even after he suspected him of treason, and his ego had been heavily damaged with the suspicion that the man beside him was the real hero behind Camelot's many victories.

But Arthur could never bring himself to hate Merlin. Of all people, Merlin deserved to be praised, to be recognized. The king glanced at his manservant, finding nothing but concern and compassion radiating from those wise blue eyes. How different they were from the dependent child Arthur had seen the last few days. He was grateful that the insecurity within Merlin was gone but a part of him longed for the little warlock to come back. The five year old had looked up to and admired him. This Merlin, his Merlin, was his own man. He used his wisdom and kindness to influence and encourage his king. Arthur felt that the roles had reversed, he now being the one to crave acceptance and reassurance from the warlock beside him. He was terrified that Merlin would see his worthlessness and desert him.

"Every decision I've made has been wrong," he mumbled. "I should be more discerning – wise – a statesman – a king! Tristan's right. There's nothing special about me. I'm just like everyone else."

"You're not!" Merlin adamantly whispered. "You're a worthy king."

There was that word again: _worthy_. He was anything but!

"I'm good with a sword," he mumbled, "that's all."

"Your people love you."

"Most of them are dead, thanks to me."

"No. Most of them _escaped_. I may not remember leaving the city but you told me yourself that you ordered Leon to have the people flee if Morgana attacked. They'll be here in the forest. I'm sure of that."

"If they are, they'll have to find themselves a new king," Arthur muttered bitterly.

Merlin's frown was great. "Arthur, you can't mean that!"

"This is the second time Morgana has taken the crown, Merlin!" he snapped sullenly. "I've caused enough devastation to fall upon the people of Camelot. I'm not fit to rule."

Merlin reached over and whacked the back of the king's head. Shocked, Arthur's eyes widened as he focused on the incensed warlock. Merlin's gaze was blazing with inner fire and the king unconsciously shied away as if expecting to be burned.

"You said that Gaius told you concerning the prophecy of Emrys and the Once and Future King."

Arthur nodded, slightly confused.

"Then you know that you are the king he spoke of," Merlin continued vigilantly. And as he spoke, his tone and expression softened. "The Once and Future King is the man who will restore magic to the land and unite the five kingdoms under one rule. Destiny has chosen you, Arthur, and whether you like it or not, you _are_ the Once and Future King. I had my doubts about you in the beginning but I have seen what most have not. You have a limitless love for your people. You are compassionate and considerate in your judgments. You accept counsel from others – be they noble or commoner – and act on said counsel if you feel it to be right.

"A great king seeks not to lift himself but to lift his people. Time and time again I have seen you raise the spirits of men who were on the verge of breaking. I have seen others rally to the cause of righteousness because you had the courage to do it first. You inspire men to fight for truth, justice, and honor. Not fit to rule? I've never heard more rubbish in my entire life! Giving up on your birthright will not bring about your dream of building a kingdom of prosperity and peace. There is no one better suited for being king than you, Arthur."

Humbled, Arthur shook his head. "How can you see that in me when I can't see it in myself?"

Merlin smiled and lightly bumped his shoulder. "People have a hard time seeing the good inside themselves, Arthur – although, I can't blame you; you do have a lot of prattish walls hiding your good qualities."

"Hey!" Arthur cried indignantly.

Merlin chuckled. "You walked right into that one, you know."

"Shut up, Merlin."

"No, you'd get bored."

"You think I missed your prattling insults? You were a lot sweeter as a five year old!"

Merlin became quiet and Arthur glanced over to see him frowning in deep thought.

"Merlin?" he prompted.

The warlock shook his head. "It's just – I wish I could _remember_. It's frustrating that I've been keeping my magic secret for all these years, waiting for the perfect moment to tell you the truth, and then I was cursed to be a five year old and my ignorance revealed everything for me. And I can't even remember how you reacted!" – He paused – "Were you mad?"

"I found out you had been lying to me for almost a decade, Merlin. Of course I was mad!" Arthur said irritably. Merlin flinched which caused the king's anger to dissipate. His tone softer, Arthur let out a heavy sigh. "But then I witnessed your magic. It reflected your innocence and it was… beautiful," he forced out the last word awkwardly.

Merlin looked at him curiously. "Beautiful?" He wasn't teasing him; he was genuinely puzzled by the king's word choice.

Arthur, feeling like his face was on fire, couldn't bring himself to look at Merlin as he continued, "Yes, it was beautiful, Merlin. I've never been exposed to magic like that before. I've only ever seen the destruction it can cause. But what you've done the last three days has made me question everything my father taught me since birth. Your magic… I feel like it shows your heart, reflecting the man you are inside."

There was a brief pause between them and Arthur was immensely grateful that Merlin had enough tact not to tease him for what he'd said. The king usually refrained from sharing this side of himself but ever since little Merlin… he had turned soft. He both hated and admired the affect Merlin had over him.

He peeked at the warlock and was surprised to see how touched Merlin appeared. Happiness lifted the corners of his mouth causing his eyes to twinkle. Arthur's heart warmed at the sight. It was strange but he almost felt like he was experiencing what Merlin was feeling.

"Thank you, Arthur," Merlin muttered, his smile growing as he stared at the king. "I never thought I'd have an actual conversation with you about my magic. It's surreal."

"Yeah," Arthur nodded before blurting out, "What does it feel like anyway?"

Merlin's brows drew together in confusion. "What does what feel like?"

"Your magic," Arthur emphasized before adding, "being Emrys."

The warlock glanced at him before gazing off into the dark forest. "It's… lonely," he softly confessed, his eyes sad. "To be more powerful than any man you know, and have to live like a shadow. To… be special and have to pretend you're a fool."

Of all the answers, Arthur hadn't been expecting that. "You're not a fool, Merlin. You're the wisest man I know." – Merlin looked up, surprised, but Arthur wasn't finished – "You no longer have to live in the shadows of other men – especially me – and you most certainly don't have to bear this burden alone anymore. You're greater than I ever will be and even if I am this Once and Future King, I don't think I'd amount to much without Emrys. I think I'd be pretty shoddy without him, if I were honest."

The warlock's grin was wide as Arthur fidgeted uncomfortably. "You don't give yourself enough credit," Merlin gently replied. "I have faith in you, Arthur. I always have."

And Arthur could see that faith, shining from Merlin's eyes. What was more, his heart began to lift under such a gaze. "Do you really think I'm him?" he asked, "This Once and Future King?"

"I know you are," Merlin stated with such conviction that Arthur had no choice but to believe him. "It's your destiny, Arthur, as it is mine to serve you."

"But you're so much more than a servant, Merlin," Arthur protested. "And besides, why would you want to be? You're the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth! Why would you be content to remain a servant to a king like me when you can easily rule over everyone in the world?"

A warm smile spread across Merlin's face and his gaze softened as he looked at Arthur in fondness. "I was born with a power that I never wanted, Arthur," he answered, "one that, for the longest time, I mostly saw as a curse. I was shunned by the other children in my village – their taunts even convinced me that my fear of being a monster was accurate."

"You're not a monster, Merlin!" Arthur interjected.

"Thank you, Arthur," Merlin said sincerely, "You might have to keep reminding me of that, though; it's a deeply engrained believe. You have to understand, my mother was terrified that I would be discovered and we were close enough to Camelot's boarders to be influenced by Uther's view of sorcery. The opinion of magic is just as bitter in Ealdor as it is in Camelot. Hearing everyone around you proclaim how evil it is and knowing you have that evil inside of you… tell me if you too wouldn't believe you were a monster?"

Arthur couldn't deny that what Merlin said was logical. He hated to admit it though. Guilt consumed him. It was because of his father that Merlin had grown up believing this way.

Merlin sighed. "For most of my life I resented myself. Why was I so different from others? Why couldn't I be like everyone else? What was the point in having magic if I had to hide it from everyone? These questions plagued me constantly – that is, until I moved to Camelot."

Arthur frowned, confused. "Why Camelot?"

"Because you weren't in Ealdor," Merlin said with a warm smile.

"Me?"

Merlin rolled his eyes. "I would have thought you'd have figured it out by now, dollophead. I didn't know it at the time but you and I were destined to be two sides of the same coin. You, the greatest king the world has ever known, and me, Emrys, the magical protector and advisor of the Once and Future King. You ask why I would rather serve you than rule the world? You gave me purpose, Arthur. For the first time in my life, I had a reason for my magic: protecting you. And though it is a full time job – and definitely difficult to juggle with all the other tasks you set me – I have never been happier in my life. Cornelius Sigan once tempted me to rule, you know. Do you know what I told him? That it was better to serve a good man than to rule with an evil one. Some men are born to plow fields, some live to be great physicians, others to be great kings" – he paused to nudge Arthur in the shoulder – "Me? I was born to serve you, Arthur. And I'm proud of that and I wouldn't change a thing."

Arthur was staring at Merlin as he never had before: in complete and total awe. He tried to speak but the words caught in his throat. His eyes burned as he was overwhelmed with an onslaught of powerful emotions. Looking away, he blinked and a tear fell. He bit his lip, trying to hide the vulnerability this man had somehow made completely visible to the naked eye. Merlin, sensing he needed a moment, did not leave his side but remained still. How grateful this made the king! Swallowing with great difficulty, Arthur quickly brushed aside another tear on his cheek. After taking several deep breaths, he cleared his throat and found the strength to turn back to his friend. Merlin's smile was warm, filled with understanding, his eyes dancing with life and affection.

Truly humbled, the king lowered his head. "I'm honored to have you by my side, Merlin. I haven't done much to deserve your loyalty but I want to make it up to you."

"You've already started to," Merlin answered kindly, "and you'll continue to do so. I know you will."

"I hope so," Arthur mumbled.

"What are you afraid of?" Merlin asked, seeing right through him.

Arthur's spirit was breaking as he began to confess something he never thought he'd say aloud. "The past few weeks have opened my eyes to something that I can no longer overlook. But, Merlin, if you repeat anything I've said here today you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

Merlin smirked. "I think I've proven myself capable of keeping secrets, Arthur."

The king scowled. "I'm serious, Merlin."

"Alright, alright, go ahead and pour out your soul. I promise I won't let anyone know how truly compassionate you are."

"Shut up, you idiot."

Arthur's face was burning. He played with his gloved hands for a moment before taking a deep breath. Ignoring the frantic beating of his own heart, he confessed his deepest secret.

"You asked what I'm afraid of… well, the truth is, I'm afraid of losing you," he whispered, his tear filled eyes on his boots. Struggling for breath, he continued, "When you disappeared a few weeks ago, behind that rockslide… Merlin, I felt _lost._ I felt like I was falling into some dark abyss. I have never been so terrified, so bereft, so _abandoned_ as I was on that day. I can't even tell you the relief I felt when you stumbled out of that bog covered head to foot in mud. And then, when that sorcerer placed that curse on you and you turned into a five year old – I felt like I had lost you all over again. Since the moment I met you, you have been changing my life. A five year old version of you isn't capable of being the man I desperately need by my side. I can't be the king I want to be without you. But I'm afraid I'm going to do something that will change your opinion of me – that you'll leave because of it – and then I'll be lost to the darkness once more. Don't leave me, Merlin. I – I can't – I don't know what I'd do if–"

But he couldn't continue. His throat had closed off. Embarrassed and feeling like a completely broken man, the King of Camelot buried his face in his drawn up knees, his shoulders shaking as he tried so desperately to control his sobs.

He'd lost so much that the thought of losing one more person was too much for him to bear. His parents, Morgana, Agravaine; he couldn't bear it if Merlin was added to that list. He was sure that if Guinevere left the pain would be great but the eternal void he felt over Merlin's absence would be greater still. Perhaps this connection had to deal with their shared destiny? Growing up Arthur had always thought that something was missing in his life. He didn't realize at the time that the feeling had gone away when Merlin challenged him that fateful day but now he did. He knew it without doubt. Life would be meaningless without Merlin.

A comforting arm reached around the king's shoulders and Arthur leaned into the touch though he didn't raise his head. He just continued to sob. He was so tired of failing. Why did people hate him so much? Why did Tristan and so many others despise and demean his character? Why had Agravaine betrayed him? Why had Morgana transformed into his worst enemy? Why didn't Merlin trust him with his secrets? Why was he constantly finding himself in situations where his kingdom, his people, were left suffering?

He felt broken. Could he get anything right? What kind of king confessed to his servant how worthless he felt without him? Kings were supposed to be stalwart, strong, assertive, and unyielding. They didn't sob like little children and allow their heart to be trampled upon by countless betrayals. At least, every king that Arthur could think of was like this; none of them were weak like him.

"Arthur," Merlin whispered gently in his ear, "I'm never going to leave you. I'm going to be right where I belong: by your side, protecting you – even if that means protecting you from yourself."

Sniffling, Arthur managed to glance up at Merlin. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"You've backed yourself into a corner," Merlin explained. "Don't try to hide it from me, I can see it in your eyes. I've been expecting you to break down for a while, actually; I'm just sorry it took this whole ordeal to do it."

Arthur scoffed pitifully and mumbled, "You've been expecting me to turn into a sobbing girl?"

"I've watched for months as the burden of the crown has weighed you down and brought out severe insecurities that you daily hide from everyone around you," Merlin revealed. "I see how much you care about your people and how terrified you are of failing them. I've observed how hard you fight for equality in your councils even though you fear your efforts will be cast away by those frankly pathetic noblemen with biased opinions and closed off hearts. I have witnessed the countless hours of dedication you give to ensure your kingdom is safe and provided for despite how ignorant others may be of your perseverance.

"I didn't know how you felt about me – at least, as deeply as you've confessed anyway – but I don't want your fear that I will leave to be added to the other worries already upsetting you. I hate to tell you this, but you're stuck with me, sire. I also hate to inform you but the people believe you to be the greatest king they've ever had. I wasn't lying when I said they love you. They love you because they can feel how deeply you care for them.

"And stop comparing yourself to other kings – dead or alive. You are loyal, just, truehearted, compassionate, honest, courageous, and inspiring. You will change this land by being _you_ , Arthur, so stop comparing yourself to the deeds of other rulers who don't even have a prayer of being half the man you already are. You are the Once and Future King, the man who will unite all people under one rule and your actions will live long in the hearts of men for generations to come."

Arthur wiped away the remains of his tears, leaning back against the tree. "I don't know if I can do it, Merlin," he whispered. "You ask so much. I'm barely able to maintain my own kingdom. How can I hope to be the Once and Future King?"

Merlin shook his head, exasperated. "You already have what you need in order to be that king, Arthur." Then a large smile climbed his prominent cheeks. "And I'm going to prove it to you!"

Arthur looked up, startled. "How?"

Merlin grinned. "You'll see. Tomorrow. For now, you need to sleep. You look awful."

Arthur scowled. Now that wasn't fair! First of all, Merlin looked awful himself. Second of all, how could he say something like that and then not elaborate on what he was talking about?

Replacing his melancholy with curiosity, the king persisted, "You can't expect me to sleep now, Merlin. What are you hiding?"

Merlin leapt to his feet and shook his finger at him. "Tomorrow, Arthur," he repeated. "I'll tell you tomorrow."

Arthur got to his feet and brushed the dirt off his trousers. "You'll tell me _now_ , Merlin!"

"I don't think I will," the warlock mused, putting his hands behind his head and walking away with a carefree smile.

Arthur stared after him incredulously. "I am the King of Camelot, Merlin, and I demand you tell me what you're hiding this instant!"

Merlin glanced over his shoulder, his eyes dancing. Lowering his arms, he smiled. "Alright, I'll tell you." Arthur, slightly surprised, faltered a bit in his step. But then Merlin raised his hand and whispered, _**"Swefe nu."**_ His eyes flashed gold.

A blanket of warmth wrapped around Arthur's mind. That dirty little _– he'd used a spell on him!_

"Mer-in," he slurred, his strength ebbing away.

The last thing the king remembered before passing out was falling into the surprisingly strong arms of his compassionate warlock.

[][][]

Arthur woke to the soft sound of birds twittering somewhere above his head and a fire crackling merrily to his right. He was surprised with how rested he felt since he wasn't on his nice warm bed but a rough patch of earth. Blinking slowly, he tried to remember how it was he'd –

 _Merlin!_ That dastardly warlock had cast some kind of _spell_ on him!

Arthur sat bolt upright with murder in his eyes, looking around for his unfortunate manservant. He was therefore rather alarmed to find that the campsite was devoid of any other soul. Leaping to his feet, the king picked up his sword just as he heard the snapping of several twigs. Spinning around, he raised his blade just as the man he sought came tumbling out of the woods.

"Arthur, you're awake!" Merlin said with his usual annoying grin.

Arthur kept his sword raised, pointing it at Merlin's chest. "You did something to me," he accused.

Merlin rolled his eyes, seemingly not even phased by the sharp blade. "Of course I did, Arthur. You needed the sleep so I thought I'd do you a favor."

Arthur lowered his sword and huffed angrily, "I didn't need your help falling asleep, _Mer_ lin. I'm perfectly capable of doing that myself!"

"I think what you're trying to say is: Thank you so much, Merlin, for seeing that I'm too prattish to admit that I was in dire need of rest."

"Shut up Merlin."

The warlock grinned. "You're welcome, Arthur. Now, we should get going. The others are waiting for us."

Arthur's brow furrowed in confusion. "Waiting for us? Where are they?"

Merlin waved his hand and the fire beside the king extinguished instantly. "Follow me and you'll find out," he said cheerfully.

Puzzled and a little miffed at his evasiveness, Arthur followed his warlock through the woods. He'd never been a morning person and wandering around on an empty stomach wasn't helping matters. He was just about to start complaining when Merlin began to prattle away.

"So I know you haven't had your breakfast this morning –"

"Hmph!" Arthur scoffed.

Grinning, Merlin continued, "But I thought this would be more important. Last night I managed to communicate with a friend and he helped me find where the people of Camelot have been hiding. I sent a message to Leon and he had everyone gather to where we're headed right now."

"Wait, what?" Arthur blinked incredulously. "How were you able to communicate with Leon?"

Merlin shrugged. "Magic has many uses, Arthur. Gwaine had to rip his undershirt a bit for me to write down instructions and then I cast a spell that sent the scrap of fabric to Leon. As for my friend, well, I'll save that answer for another day."

"More secrets?" Arthur asked bitterly.

Merlin peeked over his shoulder. "No, sire," he said honestly, "it's just one of those things I promise to explain to you at a later time."

Arthur sighed. "Alright," he grumbled, "I guess I'll accept that. So where are we going?"

"Not far from here is a clearing," Merlin answered just ahead of him, "where I will prove to you that you are the Once and Future King before all of your people."

Arthur stopped dead in his tracks. Sensing that he was no longer being followed, Merlin turned back to raise a questioning brow in his direction. Arthur didn't know why he was suddenly so nervous. Merlin believed him to be this King so why didn't he? He had a sense of foreboding that Merlin was going to make him do something dramatic and he was terrified that he was going to fail the test.

"What do you mean by that Merlin?" he asked, trying not to hyperventilate.

Merlin, sensing his distress, wandered back over to his friend and gripped his shoulders tightly. "Do you trust me, Arthur?" he asked, his blue eyes probing into the king's soul.

"Yes," came the honest reply.

"Then do as I say," the warlock gently ordered. "Come on; we don't have far to go."

Swallowing the painful lump in his throat, Arthur followed his friend uncertainly. Ten minutes later, the king's anxiety was at its apex as Merlin stepped out of the woods into a clearing that contained what Arthur felt was the majority of the citizens of Camelot. He easily picked out his knights due to their red capes. There were at least twenty of them, not even half of the number he'd abandoned in Camelot. Trying to ignore the pain _that_ thought brought, Arthur laid eyes on Guinevere and the aching in his heart lifted a little. She was smiling encouragingly, her faith in him burning brightly inside her loving brown eyes.

As he surveyed his people, Arthur couldn't figure out why they were all staring at him expectantly – until he noticed that several of them were glancing occasionally towards the middle of the clearing. Arthur followed their gaze and his mouth dropped open. Stuck right in the middle of a boulder was the most magnificent blade he had ever seen, its brown hilt gleaming with golden accents in the morning sun.

Merlin stepped up beside the transfixed king. "That sword was made for the Once and Future King, Arthur," he explained in a low murmur, "and only he can remove it."

Arthur whirled around. "Excuse me?"

Merlin's smile was large. "You heard me, Arthur. I'm proving that you are the rightful leader and king of Albion."

"That sword is stuck fast in solid stone!" Arthur protested, gesturing to the object behind him.

"And you're going to pull it out."

The king felt like a rug had been yanked from underneath his feet. "Merlin, it's _impossible!"_

"Arthur, you're the Once and Future King," Merlin stated with all the certainty of his soul.

"You want me to look like a fool!" he cried, panic filling his chest.

"No, I'm going to make you see that Tristan is wrong. You aren't just anyone. You _are_ special. You and you alone can draw out that sword." Arthur wanted to object but Merlin continued. "And to prove it to you, I've asked several of your men to try their hand at attempting to remove it."

"You can't be serious!" Arthur gasped.

Merlin grinned before waving his hand to the crowd. A small contingent of individuals came forward consisting of both commoners and knights, those belonging to the Round Table among them.

Merlin stepped forward and took on an air befitting that of nobility. "Let it be known that only the True King, Arthur Pendragon, can pull this sword from the stone," he stated. "To clear away any doubts, I have asked these men if they would be willing to demonstrate this as the case. All have accepted though I want it understood their loyalty to King Arthur is not to be questioned. They have agreed to do this only for the purpose of showing you, the people, that Arthur Pendragon is your king and will lead us in reclaiming Camelot from the witch. Sir Gwaine, if you would."

Gwaine stepped forward, flipping a lock of hair from his face. "Glad to be an example, sire," he said to Arthur while winking at Merlin.

Arthur watched in disbelief as Gwaine grabbed hold of the remarkable hilt and heaved with all his might. The strain he expressed wasn't faked and when the knight eventually gave up, he was gulping great lungfuls of air and wiping sweat off his face.

"That is one stuck bugger," he commented between gasps.

Sir Gareth pushed Gwaine aside with a smirk. "You just don't have what it takes, Gwaine," he teased.

"Be my guest," the carefree knight laughed, inviting him to give it a try.

But Gareth failed just as spectacularly as Gwaine had. It was the same for the other five peasants and seven knights that had volunteered to prove Arthur's identity. Arthur's jaw dropped open when even Percival struggled futilely to remove the blade. The strain on the giant's upper body was not an act and when the man finally gave up, there was a collective round of gasping and gossip.

"It's your turn now, Arthur," Merlin whispered causing the king to jump.

Arthur whirled around to face him, his eyes wide with fear. "Did you not see?" he breathed. "Every one of them failed, Merlin! It can't be done!"

"Arthur, you must believe in yourself. Close your eyes."

"You want me to –"

"Just do it, clotpole!"

Glaring at him, Arthur huffed and closed his lids. This was utterly ridiculous!

"Now you listen to me," Merlin muttered, his voice right in Arthur's ear.

Funny, why did it sound so much like the voice of reason Arthur usually heard in his head? Frowning, the king ground his teeth together, set the thought aside, and listened to the warlock's words.

"I want you to think about who you are, Arthur," Merlin whispered, "and everything you've done for Camelot. Think about the love for your people, your desire to see them happy and safe. Think of how you treat others, the characteristics you look for in your knights, and the vision you have for your kingdom."

Arthur did as Merlin asked. The first part was easy. He was Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot. The second was more difficult since he was still having serious doubts that he had done anything to really benefit his kingdom. But the other things he could ponder on so he focused on those instead.

He did love his people; he always had. There was nothing like seeing them go about their daily lives, the streets alight with smiles and laughter. Arthur wanted nothing more than to see them remain in that state of contentment.

He had not always treated those around him with respect but since Merlin appeared, he'd tried to see the good in everyone. He had learned to value a person not based on class but on their character. He'd prided himself in trying to live the values a true knight of Camelot personified: courage, honesty, valor, loyalty, and trust. He wanted his men to be the symbol of what his kingdom was to be: a place where any who ventured there felt safe, whole, and welcomed – a land thriving with life _and_ magic. Yes, a place where magic like what Merlin possessed was seen in the streets, where people acknowledged it as something glorious and beautiful.

Something started to stir within Arthur's chest, a warmth that spread from his heart and filled his soul. His eyes snapped open and a determination like nothing he had ever felt before willed his feet to move towards the embedded sword. He may not be his father but Arthur was a man who would die for his people without a second thought. For what was a king without his people?

Arthur reached forward and grasped the hilt of the sword with one hand. He tried not to think about how the others had failed to do the impossible but it was rather daunting having everyone wait with baited breath to see what would happen. His determination started to slip and his grip slackened.

"Have faith," Merlin muttered somewhere behind him and Arthur glanced over his shoulder.

Merlin's eyes reflected the faith he desperately wanted Arthur to find within himself and when the king looked around, he saw that faith shining from every person who cared about him. Each of the Knights of the Round Table displayed the brotherhood they shared, their expressions resolute in their belief in their sovereign. Arthur's gaze lingered on Guinevere whose encouraging smile had never wavered. She sent him a small nod filled with love and devotion. Arthur swallowed and looked back at Merlin whose determined gaze shone like a beacon through the darkness in the king's diminishing faith. Arthur unconsciously drew towards that light. Merlin believed in him and that meant more than anyone could ever understand.

Taking a deep breath, Arthur's grip around the hilt tightened and he tugged upward. The sword seemed to sing as it effortlessly slid out of the stone, the metal shooting a warm wave of familiarity straight up through Arthur's arm and into his heart. Overcome, the king's jaw dropped in awe as he felt the remarkable balance of the blade as it swished through the air, the point rising to the sky. Words were engraved upon a plate of gold that ran down the middle of the sword from the dark hilt in a language Arthur suspected to be the Old Religion. He could feel the magic pulsing from the weapon but it didn't repulse him. Like Merlin, it was comforting, familiar, and warm. It felt _right_.

"Long live the King!" Sir Leon shouted and the mantra was repeated three times.

Arthur lowered his gaze from the sword and slowly turned around to face Merlin who was beaming with pride. He shook his head. "I don't believe it," he muttered.

"Well, we might have softened it up for you, princess," said Gwaine with a grin.

Arthur found a smirk climbing his lips. "Would you like to try again now that I've pulled it out?"

Gwaine shrugged. "Might as well make sure it really is meant for you."

Raising a curious brow, Arthur looked to Merlin who shrugged.

"Why not?" he said humorously. "It'll only be a repeat of what we saw."

Arthur faced the boulder and aligned the point of the magnificent sword with the hole it had come from. Carefully sliding it down until it would go no farther, he stepped back and gestured for Gwaine to try again. Grinning, the knight stepped up and yanked on the sword with one hand. It didn't budge. Raising a curious brow, Gwaine grabbed the hilt with both hands, rested his feet on the base of the stone and heaved with all his might. The sword remained steadfast.

"Well," Gwaine panted, "that was a bit humiliating." There was a round of laughter and soon the knight joined in. Shrugging, he sent Arthur one of his trademark grins. "Merlin was right, Arthur. This sword can only be pulled out by the Once and Future King."

Realizing that Gwaine hadn't doubted him at all but wanted to redouble Arthur's belief in himself, the king felt a wave of appreciation for the lighthearted knight. "Thank you, Gwaine," he muttered.

"Anytime," Gwaine smirked, winking at him. "Now grab your sword, sire, we have a kingdom to recover!"

With one hand and no effort at all, Arthur lifted the blade out of the stone. Like before, it slipped from its prison without hesitation, seeming to be just as happy to be in Arthur's hand as the man was to be holding it. Grinning like a fool, Arthur wandered over to Merlin with a humbled countenance.

"Thank you, Merlin," he quietly muttered as the people began to draw close in want of his attention.

"For what?"

"For believing in me," he said before turning his attentions to welcome Guinevere, kissing her in plain view.

Someone whistled and Arthur believed it was Pelleas; the man had always had a knack for whistling. Ignoring the chuckles that rang through the air, Arthur pulled away from Guinevere but kept his hand in hers.

"Thank you all," he said loudly, addressing the crowd. "I am humbled and honored by your belief in me. I promise I will do everything in my power to restore peace to our kingdom. As your king, I ask for your help in reclaiming the city each of us holds dear in our hearts. I also ask that you keep an open mind for what I am about to tell you. I have learned from many previous experiences that magic can only be fought with magic." – Arthur paused as several people had begun to mutter in concern – "Please, listen to me," – the chatter died down – "I am no longer fool enough to believe my achievements are solely my own. There is one who has helped me come off conqueror time and time again –"

"Arthur," Merlin hissed, "what are you doing?"

Instead of answering him, Arthur continued his speech. "This man, whose aid has led to the many victories we have had in the past, has been sorely misunderstood by all of us – especially me. You see, he was gifted – yes, _gifted_ – with magic and he has used it only for good, for the purpose of protecting me and by extension every single one of you. We all owe him our lives, even more than we possibly realize. Knowing this, and understanding that magic must be fought with magic, I have asked our protector to help us once more and he has agreed."

"Sire?" said Sir Breunor, stepping forward uncertainly.

"Yes?"

"I think I am not alone in expressing my unease to your words. Magic has caused us nothing but grief."

Many people nodded, whispering quietly amongst themselves. Arthur held up a hand, silencing them.

"It has brought us grief, Breunor, but it has also brought us salvation. While magic has tried to cause our downfall, it is also the reason we still stand. It is the reason that _I_ still stand."

"Sire, who is this man who has wrought such loyalty from you?" questioned Sir Pelleas. "Never before have I seen you so adamant about defending a sorcerer."

"Something I regret with every breath I take," said Arthur in heartfelt sincerity.

This drew a few raised eyebrows. Several were looking at the king as if he'd gone mad while others were confused and desperate to understand. Many whispered behind their hands, quietly wondering if it wasn't blasphemous to suggest that their sovereign had been placed under an enchantment. Arthur ignored all of this, determined to help them see what he had come to realize for himself.

"The man's name is Emrys, Pelleas," he revealed, "and he will present himself during the battle. Let his actions of defending and protecting us speak for his character. He will not fail us. I know he won't."

"You sound as if you know this man intimately," commented Sir Brodric.

Arthur's face softened and, though he didn't realize it, it was the same expression he had reserved for Merlin as a five year old. "I do," he muttered, before looking up and meeting the eyes of his men, "and I know that he will never fail me."

Taken aback by the conviction on the king's face – especially since it was directed towards a _sorcerer_ – the rest of the knights decided that if he was this serious about it, then they would respect Arthur's wishes. He'd never led them astray before and they knew him well enough to know he wasn't under an enchantment.

"You are certain he will be there to help us defeat Morgana?" asked Sir Owen just for reassurance.

"With all the energy of my soul, Owen," Arthur replied. "He will be there. Have faith in him."

Guinevere's eyes shone with pride and her smile was deep as she squeezed Arthur's hand in approval. The king squeezed it back before moving on to order the men to gather supplies and ready themselves for battle. As the crowd disbursed, Arthur was left with Merlin and Guinevere at his side, the Round Table knights having gone off to see that his instructions were carried out.

Guinevere reached up and kissed his cheek. "I'm so proud of you, Arthur," she whispered.

Warmth surged from the king's heart and he leaned over to kiss the side of her head. "I wouldn't have been able to do it without your support, Guinevere."

"Arthur," Merlin said, his voice thick with emotion as the king turned to him, "I don't know what to say."

Arthur reached out and clasped the warlock's shoulder. "You don't need to say anything, Merlin. This is your chance to prove to the people exactly who you are. I have all faith in you, my friend. Besides, did you really think I was about to rush off into battle without my Court Sorcerer by my side?"

Merlin's grin was huge as he looked down at the ground, blushing. Amused, Arthur punched him lightly in the arm. "Come on, you idiot; we've got a battle to prepare for."


	10. Chapter 10

**Hi everyone! :) I just want to take a moment to say thank you very much for taking the time to read, review, and love my story. This has turned into something bigger than I'd ever anticipated. This chapter, for example, wasn't exactly planned; it just sprouted its way into existence. I hope you all like it!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin**

* * *

10: Heart to Heart in the Forest

Hours later, Arthur found himself snuggled close next to Guinevere in front of a healthy fire surrounded by his closest friends. Tristan and Isolde had joined them, the former having his arm protectively wrapped around his lover's waist. The sounds of laughter could be heard ringing through the woods and for a while Arthur was able to escape from the reality of war looming on the horizon. Earlier that day while wandering around the encampment, he'd received reports from Leon and Percival about the state of the city. Staring into the fire's warm embers, the king remembered the conversation with gratitude…

" _What about the drawbridge?"_

" _Well manned," Leon answered._

" _As are the northern gates," Percival supplied._

" _The battlements on the south side?" Arthur suggested._

" _Arthur, even if we can get inside, she has an army," said Elyan._

" _And we have, what? A few hundred?"_

" _And they still outnumber us," Percival pointed out._

" _Yeah but only three to one." A large smile lit his face as he glanced at Merlin before adding, "Not to mention we have Emrys. With him, our men will easily be able to defeat the witch and her army."_

 _Merlin blushed as the knights chuckled at the king's optimism._

" _And do you think the men will fight?" asked Isolde from somewhere behind them._

" _They'll fight for Arthur," Leon answered with conviction._

" _It is not me they have to fight for. It's for Camelot."_

" _No, Arthur," Leon gently corrected, "It's you the people love, and you that they will lay down their lives for. I know that I would ride into the mouth of Hell for you."_

" _And I," Percival stated._

" _And I," said Elyan._

 _Gwaine grinned. "Same goes for me, princess."_

" _And I," Merlin said with his trademark grin, "seeing as you can't survive a day without me."_

 _Guinevere squeezed her hand, nodding silently to him. Gazing fondly at his friends with a warm smile, Arthur drew his sword. "Into the mouth of Hell it is."_

A similar smile still lingered on the king's face. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to have these people in his life. His heartfelt gaze settled on Merlin and immediately his smile slipped, replaced with a concerned frown.

Merlin sat quietly, his eyes on the fire, his thoughts occupied elsewhere. Unlike his companions who were happily telling a fascinated Isolde and an intrigued Tristan of some of their adventures, the warlock displayed a grimace, his long fingers wrapped around a clay bowl of untouched soup. Arthur's lingering stare was finally felt and Merlin looked up. Making a quick decision, Arthur lightly kissed Guinevere's temple and stood.

"I'll be back," he muttered in answer to her questioning gaze.

Staring pointedly at Merlin one more time, the king turned his back on the fire and started making his way passed the various congregations of men until he reached the edge of the forest. A minute later Merlin joined him.

"What's wrong?" Arthur asked, deciding to get right to the point.

Merlin glanced over his shoulder. "Too many ears," he muttered.

He then turned on his heel and began wandering further into the woods, giving the king no choice but to follow. It was only after he could no longer hear the sounds of his people that Merlin turned around to face him. Before he could say anything, however, there was a thrilling chirp and Arthur was assaulted by an overly enthusiastic baby dragon.

"Aithusa!" Arthur cried as he found himself sprawled on the ground with the dragon sitting on his chest. "Can't– _breathe!"_ he wheezed.

Chuckling, Merlin gently ordered, "Aithusa, get off the king."

The white dragon smothered Arthur's head with her own before doing as asked though she stayed right at the king's side, her head resting in his lap as she chirped up at him affectionately. Rolling his eyes while slightly smiling, Arthur stroked her head. Merlin sat down in front of him and took Aithusa's tail, gently petting the small ridges along the surface. Blue orbs closed behind white eyelids and a strange thrumming sound started coming from Aithusa's throat.

"Merlin, is your dragon purring?" Arthur asked with an amused smirk.

"She's your dragon as much as she is mine – and I don't think they purr exactly but I guess you could call it that. She's happy."

"Obviously," Arthur muttered.

They stayed like that for a while, listening to Aithusa's contentment accompanying the nightly sounds of crickets and the occasional hoot of an owl. It was quite peaceful but the king knew the peace couldn't last.

"Merlin, what's on your mind? You look troubled."

Merlin sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. "Don't misunderstand," he muttered, his eyes downcast, "I am deeply grateful that you have placed so much faith in me, Arthur, but I fear that you might have placed too much."

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked, confused. "You're the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth! Why shouldn't I–"

"For that very reason!" Merlin interrupted, exasperated. "Arthur, I may be great with magic but being the greatest warlock in history is my _eventual_ destiny! I'm not there yet!"

The king raised an amused brow. "So, earlier you went through this whole spectacle to get me to believe I'm the Once and Future King and now you're saying that you're lacking in the belief that you're Emrys?"

"Yes – I mean, no – I mean – _ugh! I don't know!"_ Merlin snapped, running his hands frustratingly through his hair.

Aithusa's thrumming stopped, a concerned chirp escaping her mouth.

Arthur frowned. "Merlin, why are you doubting yourself? I may not know what you've done in the past but–"

"That is exactly what concerns me!" Merlin interrupted again. The warlock stood up and began to frantically pace. "You don't know what I've done, Arthur. I haven't had time to tell you everything. I want to tell you so bad but with current circumstances… We have an army to prepare and a city to reclaim and though we've done it before, things are completely different this time!"

"Oh? How so?"

Merlin looked incensed as he snapped, "Because you _know_ this time, Arthur! You know about my magic! Not only that but you've gone and told your whole army that I'm going to use it to help you reclaim the city!"

Confused by the warlock's panicked expression, Arthur shrugged his shoulders and blatantly replied, "It's the truth."

"It may be the truth but…"

Merlin groaned, rubbing his hands tiredly over his face. Arthur watched as the fight went out of him and the walls Merlin hid behind came crashing down. Slumping back onto the forest floor, he hugged his knees to his chest and rested his head against them.

"You don't understand," he whispered. "No one does."

Arthur scooted over next to him and placed a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "Then help me understand," he requested. "You've always been there for me, Merlin, and now it's my turn to return the favor. Let it all out. I want to hear it."

His manservant swallowed painfully but remained silent. Arthur realized this must be incredibly difficult for the young man. Merlin was a very private person and so coaxing him to reveal his secrets was going to take an inconceivable amount of patience on the king's part. But Arthur was willing to do it. For Merlin, _he_ would ride into the mouth of Hell were it required.

After a long time, Merlin began to speak.

"I've been taught since birth to hide, Arthur," he mumbled while playing uncomfortably with his fingers. "I've become an expert at working in the shadows. Now you're asking me to step into the light – I'll do it; for you I will do whatever you ask – but… this is hard for me… I've never been able to be free, Arthur. The prospect terrifies me. The fears of being rejected and burned, they've been pounded into my head and heart from the moment I became cognizant of the hatred of magic – and they've only deepened with each incident where it has been persecuted and ridiculed.

"I still can't believe that you and the others have accepted me." He glanced at the king with tear-filled eyes. "I keep thinking this is nothing but a dream – that I'm going to wake up and everything will be as it has always been: you oblivious and me sneaking around protecting you from the shadows. Don't misunderstand, I am happy, Arthur -happier than I can even say- that you finally know. I want to tell you everything I've done but I'm also scared. I have failed so many times, sire. I've made so many mistakes. I now have the chance to openly use my magic to help you but I'm afraid to. I'm scared that your men, your people, will reject me. I'm scared that I will be shunned and forced away from your side. But most of all, I'm terrified that I'll fail you. You've put so much trust in me but you're still ignorant concerning everything I've done since coming to Camelot!

"There are reasons I have these scars, Arthur;" -He gestured to his chest which was still slightly visible beneath Tristan's borrowed overcoat- "I know you want to ask about them. I'd be a fool not to notice your stares. You want to know what they are, Arthur? They're the markings of all my failures. Each one reminds me of how close I've allowed your enemies to get to you – how, if it weren't for the help of others, I would have failed and you would be dead. I don't want to add another scar, Arthur. I don't want to fail you. I couldn't bear it – not when you finally know and accept me."

The tears streaming down Merlin's face were large and filled with the inner sorrow wracking his body with pain. Arthur had no idea. He'd had no clue that this was how Merlin was feeling. He'd just assumed that everything would be fine – like it always was. They would face their foe, come off conqueror, and everything would go back to normal. He hadn't given any consideration to exactly what he'd been asking Merlin to do. And the idiotic sod was too loyal not to go against what he asked. Curse him for being so self-sacrificing!

"I'm grateful for your honesty, Merlin," he muttered, "and I wish to apologize for being ignorant of your situation."

"You don't need to apologize for something you didn't know," Merlin sniffled.

Arthur lightly scoffed. "Yes I do because my ignorance is due to my own actions. My misguided views of magic forced you into a corner of secrecy and lies. You couldn't be honest with me, Merlin, because I was too much of a prat to listen. But all of this – you turning into a five year old and Morgana taking over – it's helped to open my eyes and so I feel the need to apologize for not realizing how difficult it is for you to reveal who you truly are. But I know this is the right thing to do. You weren't meant to live in a cage, old friend. You were meant to be free to soar."

"But my failures–"

"Everyone fails, Merlin," Arthur gently interrupted. "I've had more than my fair share." – The comment produced a weak smile from his warlock – "But you're being a hypocrite if you believe you can't be Emrys because of that."

"How am _I_ being a hypocrite?" he scoffed.

"I'm the Once and Future King yet I've made more mistakes than I care to remember. I'm supposed to be the greatest king to ever live, according to you. That is, quite frankly, terrifying. There have been many great kings and yet I'm supposed to surpass them all? Merlin, I'm not arrogant enough to believe I'm infallible but I know I'm a good king. It's one of the few things I know that I'm good at… now. I may have yet to see how good you are with magic on a defensive scale but what I have seen you do as a five year old was awe-inspiring. I've never heard of a sorcerer who didn't have to say an incantation in order to cast a spell."

"There are several people who can do that," Merlin interrupted. "It's nothing special."

"How many do you know of who could do it at five years old?" Arthur countered.

Merlin opened his mouth to answer but no words would come. "None," he finally admitted quietly. "I've only met a handful of adults who can do it. Gaius told me it takes years of study before it's possible."

"And yet you've been able to do that kind of magic since birth," Arthur grinned, bumping his shoulder with his own.

A small smile lifted the corners of Merlin's lips and the king patted himself on the back. He was helping his best friend. It felt surprisingly satisfactory, lifting Merlin's spirits.

Merlin glanced at the king. "I guess that makes me somewhat special."

"Forget the 'somewhat', Merlin," Arthur ordered, flicking the man's ear.

A light blush filtered into the warlock's cheeks as he rubbed his ear. "Not every day I get such high praise from you, sire. Are you feeling unwell?"

"I'm perfectly healthy, Merlin. I'm just long overdue in giving you the praise you deserve. Things are going to be different from now on – in a good way."

"I hope not _too_ different," Merlin muttered, slightly worried.

"Don't worry, you'll still be an idiot," Arthur teased, ruffling his hair.

A light laugh escaped the warlock as he batted the king's hand away. "And you'll always be a prat."

Arthur smiled. Merlin looked over at him in wonder.

"What?" Arthur asked, feeling self-conscious.

Merlin shook his head, grinning. "I just can't believe you're the same person I met all those years ago. You've really changed, Arthur. I'm proud of you. You seem to be more sappy than you were before."

"Sappy?!" Arthur cried, mortified. "I am _not_ sappy, Merlin!"

"Yes you are," Merlin laughed. "You're more open with your feelings. I've never seen you like this. Did something happen to make you so while I was five years old?"

Arthur looked away, blushing. "Maybe," he grumbled.

"Like what?" Merlin prodded, poking him playfully with his finger.

"Stop poking me, Merlin!"

"Answer my question then."

"No."

"Come on."

"You know, I'm pretty tired. I think we should head back."

"Arthur."

The king sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "Yes, something happened," he whispered soberly, his eyes on his boots.

Finding his inner courage, he looked up. Merlin was giving him his full attention, his former amusement no longer present. Encouraged, Arthur confessed every single thing he had felt after and during his experience with Merlin as a five year old. He'd left out his feels when explaining the details earlier back by the Lake of Avalon but now that the two were alone, he could be completely honest. It felt good, in a way, admitting just how much he cared for the man sitting beside him.

"After everything, I realize now that I can't live without you, Merlin," he muttered. "You're more than just my brother. I honestly can't explain _what_ you are to me but, all I know is, without you, life would be empty. I think I would lose myself. That's why, no matter what happens after this, I'll do everything I have to in order to keep you by my side. I would forsake my kingdom if it were required."

"Two sides of the same coin," said Merlin, staring fondly at the king. "Kilgharrah told me once that 'a side cannot truly hate that which makes it whole'. I feel the same towards you, Arthur. You bring purpose to my life. What we have, it's some form of love."

"Don't be ridiculous, Merlin," Arthur scoffed, mortified. "I do _not_ love you!"

Merlin hit him upside the head. "Not in that way, you clotpole!" he snapped. "There are _other_ forms of love besides the kind you have for Guinevere! Sheesh! Did you really think–? _Honestly!_ There are some men who feel that way about you but I'm not one of them. You give yourself _way_ too much credit if you think I'm – g _racious!_ – What I'm _trying_ to say is that there are several different kinds of love in the world, Arthur!"

"I know that, Merlin, I'm not an idiot!"

"Could have fooled me!" he snapped.

Both men were blushing to the roots of their hair, neither knowing exactly how to proceed. Aithusa seemed amused by their exchange; her draconic face was pulled in what Arthur suspected was a grin, her eyes dancing merrily as they flicked back and forth between him and Merlin.

After a while Merlin sighed. "Well, this is awkward."

"Yeah," Arthur mumbled.

"Look, all I was trying to get at is –"

"Do we really have to talk about this?"

"Yes, we do, so _shut up_ and let me finish!" Merlin snapped.

" _Fine!"_ Arthur snarled. "Get on with it, then!"

"I'm glad I have your permission, _sire_. Now, as I was _saying_ , our relationship, I think, consists of three of the four loves defined by the Greeks that Gaius once taught me: agape, philia, and storge. Agape love in an unconditional love for mankind; another good word to describe it is charity. Philia is expressed as loyalty and requires virtue, equality, and familiarity; it's usually the kind of love friends have for each other. Storge means affection but can also associate with putting up with circumstances – like serving prattish kings."

Arthur scowled. "And the fourth is Eros."

"Yes, you would know about that one, wouldn't you?" Merlin teased.

"Shut up, Merlin." A snicker came as a reply. Arthur punched the man in the shoulder but the noise didn't cease. _"Alright!"_ he grumbled, _"Yes,_ I would know of Eros since that's the kind of love people talk about!"

"You mean it's the only kind of love _you're_ comfortable with talking about."

"Merlin?"

"I'm guessing a 'shut up' is going to be suggested?"

"You're not as dumb as you look."

"No, that's your job."

"Out of the two of us, I think it's fair to say I am the spitting image of intelligence."

"Arthur?"

"What?"

"I take back what I said. You're still an arrogant prat."

The two shared knowing grins before Arthur let out a sigh. "We've come a long way, haven't we? From that first day."

Merlin smiled, leaning back on his hands and staring up at the starry sky. "I'd say so," he admitted. "But what do you expect when you unconditionally, affectionately, and loyally love someone?"

"Merlin," Arthur groaned, "will you give it a rest?"

"Not until you admit that you love me."

"Why on earth do I need to admit it?!"

"Because I'll announce that you do to everyone if you don't – bending the truth by involving _Eros_ of course."

"You wouldn't dare!" Arthur cried, mortified. The rumor Guinevere confessed to him about his relationship with Merlin leapt through his mind.

"It wouldn't be too hard to convince anyone since there are some who still believe we–"

" _Merlin!"_ Arthur cried, totally flustered. It was one thing to discuss this particular subject with Guinevere but to talk about it with _Merlin?!_ No. There were certain lines he needed to draw and this was one of them!

"What?" Merlin prodded, "Do you hate people who have that kind of relationship?"

"Of course not! I have nothing against them I'm just not one of them – and you bloody well know that!"

Merlin smirked. "Oh, believe me, sire, from how often you swoon over Gwen–"

"I do _not_ swoon!"

"Yes you do! Now, before I was so _rudely_ interrupted, I know you don't view men romantically – though I also know others who believe you do."

"This is ridiculous," Arthur groaned. "I cannot believe we're even having this conversation! First Guinevere, then Gwaine, now _you_ – why can't we let the matter drop?! I love Guinevere, I'm going to ask her to marry me after this battle is over, and I most certainly _do not_ have _any_ romantic feelings towards _any_ man – especially _you,_ _Mer_ lin!"

"But you _do_ love me."

"Oh for the love of–"

"Just admit it, Arthur, and I promise that I'll make sure to permanently put the rumors to rest."

Arthur gaped at him. He knew Merlin was goading him. That little cabbage head was doing all of this on purpose! The king knew he wouldn't live it down if he confessed the truth but he also knew Merlin would continue to pester him on the subject if he didn't.

Turning away, his arms folded defiantly against his chest, his gaze directed towards the trees, Arthur ground out the words he never would have dared say in any other given circumstance.

"I… love you… Merlin," he stated with difficulty. Whirling around, his face on fire, the king found his manservant grinning triumphantly. Arthur marched up to him and pointed dramatically in his face. In the deadliest tone he could muster, he added, "And if you repeat what I just said to _anyone_ , I swear I will cut out your tongue! Do you hear me?"

Merlin's eyes were twinkling with amusement as he backed up a step with his hands raised in surrender. "I won't tell a soul, Arthur. Although, while we're confessing, I love you too."

"This is so wrong," Arthur groaned, raking his hands through his hair. "I'm never repeating that again, Merlin. _NEVER_. Saying that was the single, most _painful_ thing I've _ever_ had to admit!"

Merlin chuckled, humor still dancing in his eyes, clearly enjoying the king's discomfort.

"Oh stop being so dramatic. Besides, at least we both understand the depth of our relationship now," he said cheerfully. "We are two sides of the same coin after all; more than friends and more than brothers."

Arthur sighed. "For simplicity's sake can I just call you my little annoying brother and be done with it?"

Merlin's grin was wide. "As long as I can call you my arrogant older brother."

"Deal, just, let's not talk about this anymore. I came out here to comfort you, not to exchangecertain… _things."_

Merlin snorted before sobering. "You succeeded, Arthur."

"What?"

"In comforting me," he explained. "I really do feel better. I guess I was just afraid that if I fail then you'll hate me."

"Have more faith in me, you idiot," Arthur muttered, fondly ruffling his hair again. "I can't hate what makes me whole, remember?"

Merlin smirked. "Is that a declaration of–"

"– Merlin say the word love and I'll punch you."

"I didn't have to, sire, you said it all on your own."

"Shut up, Merlin."

"Seriously though," Merlin sighed, his smile disappearing, "I don't know how much I'll be able to do on my own, Arthur. According to the reports, Morgana isn't the only sorceress we have to worry about. You said that the sorcerer who cast the youth spell is also there. What if he casts it again and it ends up hitting you?"

"Then we'll just have Guinevere kiss me," Arthur replied with a shrug.

Merlin scowled. "Take this more seriously, Arthur."

"I am, Merlin," the king replied without a hint of humor in his tone. "I have all faith in your abilities. I can't believe I'm saying this but I want your magic to leave me speechless tomorrow. I want to see what you can do now that you don't have to hold back. No more discreetly whispered spells; no more hiding in the shadows. When we enter that city tomorrow I want my men to see who you really are: Camelot's protector and my closest friend. I know your magic will be incredible."

"But I'm still just one man, Arthur. Morgana has an army consisting of not only mercenaries but also sorcerers. Even though I am Emrys, I have limits too."

"What exactly are you saying?"

"We need help," Merlin said simply, " _magical_ help."

Arthur frowned but then an idea struck him. "The druids! They'd help us!"

Merlin shot down his enthusiasm like an arrow striking its prey. "The druids are not warriors, Arthur. It's against their ways to fight in wars."

"But I can't think of any other sorcerers – besides you – who would be willing to fight for Camelot."

Merlin grinned. "I said the druids wouldn't fight but I never said they wouldn't _help."_

Arthur was bemused. "I don't understand."

"Inanimate objects can become fascinating things, sire, if you cast a little magic into them," the warlock smirked. "For example, a simple ring can become the conduit for a shield enchantment – which is very handy when sorcerers are trying to attack you."

A thrill of excitement stole over the king. "Merlin, are you truly talking about magical defenses?"

"Last time I checked that's usually what a shield does."

"No time to get cheeky," Arthur said while clipping the back of his manservant's head.

Rubbing the smart with a grin on his face, Merlin chuckled, "Yes, Arthur, magical defense is exactly what I'm talking about. All we would need is something the men can wear in battle. I only suggested a ring because they're small and would remain securely on one's person – unless their hand gets chopped off that is."

"Thank you for that lovely imagery."

"I thought you'd appreciate it. So, rings or something else? Battle is, as they say, your expertise, sire."

"I do like the idea of rings, Merlin, but we don't have the time to find that much metal and craft it to fit everyone's finger."

"Arthur, you're thinking without magic."

"Huh?"

"It would take a mere flicker of my eyes to change a few metal shields into perfectly fitting rings for your men," Merlin explained with a shrug. "After that I would just need to take the metal to the druids."

"Why can't you magic the shields yourself if it's so easy to make rings?" Arthur wondered.

"In simple terms, it would be easy for me to change shields and swords into rings because I don't have to transform the metal into a different substance. Placing a shield charm on each ring requires that I take energy and manipulate it to create something new. Does that make sense?"

"Not really," Arthur admitted.

Merlin sighed. "Think of it like this: there are different ways to cook an egg. You can boil it, fry it, scramble it; you get the idea. But no matter what shape you change it into, it's still an egg. Now, let's say you want to make bread. Well, you need lots of different ingredients to make that sort of thing, like flour, eggs, and salt. Together, when blended, those things make something else. Keep in mind that it also takes more effort to make bread than it does to cook eggs."

"What has that got to do with anything?" Arthur asked curiously.

Merlin frowned, thinking. "Let me see if I can find something to compare it to for you," he muttered. His eyes suddenly lit up. "Ahhh, yes! So, a warrior uses their strength to fight in battle, right?"

"Yes," Arthur drawled.

"Well, a sorcerer uses energy from the earth but the human body, sorcerer or no, eventually tires and needs to rest. When this happens, in a sorcerer's case, it makes it harder for them to concentrate on borrowing the energy from the earth to create spells. Now, I'm not a sorcerer, Arthur, I'm a warlock. Sorcerers draw their power from the earth but warlocks draw the power from _themselves."_

Arthur finally understood. "So, since it takes energy to manipulate magic into making a shield, you'd basically be using your own reserves to make it."

"And the more energy I take, the weaker I become," Merlin finished with a proud smile. "Do you understand now, Arthur? I can take things that already exist and bend them into a new shape without much effort because little energy is required to change it. But to create something new, I need to manipulate the raw energy or power I have into an entirely different thing. The bigger the thing, the harder it is to make."

"Magic seems complicated," Arthur muttered.

Merlin laughed. "You don't know the half of it."

The king sighed. "So, basically, you're saying that we need the druids' help because if each of them uses their magic to make just one shield they won't lose a lot of energy. Whereas, if you magicked every shield yourself, then you'd be nothing more than a worthless lump until your reserves could replenish themselves; I assume you do that like any other normal person with food and rest?"

"That about sums it up," Merlin confirmed.

"Well then you must not use a lot of magic because you're as skinny as a bean pole," Arthur teased, poking Merlin's stomach.

"Hey, my weight has nothing to do with how much magic I use! And besides, I'd rather be skinny than needing new holes poked into my belt all the time."

"Who's needed new holes poked into their belt?"

"Just a certain kingly prat."

" _No!"_ Arthur cried, aghast, holding his stomach.

"A little extra padding goes with the job," Merlin teased, folding his arms and grinning like a loon. "All those _feasts_ …"

Arthur stared at Merlin in horror. He had noticed he'd gained a little weight but he didn't think anyone else would have! "How long, Merlin?" he demanded.

"How long what?"

"How long have you been _mutilating_ my belt?"

"Mutilating is a very strong word, Arthur. I'd say I've been _enhancing_ it for comfort and easier use."

"How _long_ , Merlin?!"

"Not that long," Merlin shrugged. "It was only two holes shy of perfection."

" _Two–?"_ Arthur groaned in dismay.

Merlin was decent enough to keep the smile from his face as he patted the king's back. "Like I said, Arthur, it comes with the job. You're not constantly running about training and going on patrols anymore. Being king requires a lot of sitting, listening, and delegating."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this," Arthur mourned. "No one can know, Merlin. Do you hear me? If you tell a soul–"

"I know, I know, you'll cut out my tongue," Merlin said, rolling his eyes. "Trust me, Arthur, if there's one thing I'm good at, it's keeping secrets."

The king snorted. Trying to rein in his mortification, he cleared his throat and straightened his features to an expression he hoped was sinister. "See to it that that remains so."

The smirk on Merlin's face made him think he wasn't threatening at all. The king inwardly cursed. Hang it all! _Two whole notches?!_ He would never live it down if the knights knew. Arthur didn't even want to _think_ about what the townsfolk would say. He'd be a laughingstock for weeks!

"So," Merlin grinned, "do you want me to contact the druids and see if they can help us out?"

Scowling at the stupid knowing grin on his manservant's face, Arthur answered in a clipped tone, "That would be most helpful."

"Don't be so sore about it, Arthur," Merlin consoled. "If it's any comfort, I don't love you any less for gaining weight. Guinevere doesn't either."

"Shut up, Merlin, and contact the bloody druids!" Arthur snapped.

Laughing, the warlock sent him a mock bow. "As you wish, your _fatty_ pratness."

Arthur twisted around and lunged for him but Merlin was faster; for a man famous for his clumsiness, he sure could run when he wanted to. The warlock maneuvered through the trees with grace, Arthur pursuing him mercilessly. The king thought he heard Merlin shout something but the noise sounded like gibberish in his ears.

"Get back here, Merlin!" Arthur angrily bellowed, traipsing through the underbrush and dodging low hanging branches of trees with all his skills as a hunter.

Laughter was Merlin's only response and this provoked the king further, his frustration towards the warlock building with each step. Arthur didn't realize that the trees had soon turned into men and the bushes into fire pits; all he thought about was killing his disparaging manservant. With a burst of speed he leapt forward and barreled into Merlin's back. The poor fellow fell flat on his face and the two tumbled a few feet before coming to a stop. Arthur quickly grabbed for Merlin's head, preventing the warlock from scrambling away from him.

"What did you call me, Merlin?" he demanded, rubbing his knuckles mercilessly into the man's scalp.

"N-Nothing, sire!" Merlin whimpered, squirming in his grasp.

"I can't hear you!" Arthur shouted.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry! _I'm sorry!"_ Merlin cried.

Arthur released him with a triumphant grin. It soon became an embarrassed frown, however, when he realized they were surrounded by a gathering of rather amused knights of Camelot. Clearing his throat and trying to regain his dignity, Arthur hastily leapt to his feet and brushed himself off.

"For that earlier comment you're going in the stocks after we take back the citadel," Arthur said over his shoulder as he left Merlin in the dirt.

"Clotpole."

It was an affectionate mutter that left the king outwardly smirking as he pushed his way passed a chuckling Sir Owen to where a rather disapproving Guinevere stood. Well, she was trying to be disapproving at least; her eyes were twinkling.

"Honestly," she muttered as he embraced her, "will you two ever change?"

"If we did you wouldn't love me as much," Arthur grinned, kissing her forehead.

"No, I suppose I wouldn't," she chuckled.

Tristan and Isolde were the only ones still sitting near the fire; Gwaine and the others had gathered around to watch the earlier spectacle. Arthur could vaguely hear their laughter joining Merlin's and a part of him feared the idiot had gone ahead and told them what their squabble was about. If he had, he'd kill him for sure!

"Arthur, what did you need to talk to Merlin about?" Guinevere asked, regaining his attention.

Sitting down near the fire opposite the two smugglers, Arthur lowered his voice and answered, "Magical matters mostly. Merlin was talking about getting into contact with the druids and having them help make magical shields for the men to fight against Morgana's sorcerers."

"That's actually a really good idea," Tristan mused.

Arthur smiled. "Merlin may be a servant but he's never been a simpleton. He's one of the most intelligent men I know."

"Why thank you, Arthur – that might be one of the nicest things you've ever said about me."

The king rolled his eyes as the warlock plopped down next to him, the Round Table knights reforming and completing the circle.

"Merlin says you two were talking about something that could help with the battle, sire," prompted Leon.

Arthur frowned, casting his eyes back and forth. "Be careful what you say, Merlin."

"What? I thought you wanted me to be free."

"Yes, _tomorrow_ during the battle."

"Why can't I be myself now?"

"You're making things difficult on purpose, aren't you?" The grin on the younger man's face was answer enough for the king. Arthur flicked Merlin in the ear again. "You're no longer five, Merlin; you can't get away with coercing me like that."

"So you're saying I was able to manipulate you into doing things when I _was_ five? Maybe I should change back," Merlin mused.

"Don't even joke about that!" Arthur snapped while the others lightly chuckled. Rolling his eyes at the warlock, the king lowered his voice and told the others of Merlin's plan.

"That could work," Gwaine admitted.

"It would definitely help influence some of the men's views of magic towards the positive," said Leon.

"Right, so I take it Merlin's not getting any sleep tonight?" guessed Elyan.

"I'll get a few hours," Merlin answered, wrapping himself further in Tristan's overcoat. "I contacted the druids while Arthur was chasing me earlier. Unlike most sorcerers, I somehow have the ability to communicate through the mind without having to worry about distance."

"What do you mean?" asked Isolde at the same time Gwaine exclaimed, "You can communicate through your mind?"

"Keep your voice down, you idiot," Arthur hissed, glaring at the jovial knight.

There was a moment's pause and then Merlin whispered a spell, his eyes flashing gold.

"What did you just do?" asked Tristan.

Grinning, Merlin proclaimed, "Oh, I just made it so anyone within five feet of us won't be able to hear what we're talking about."

Gwaine whistled. "Now _that_ will come in handy in the future."

"How much power did it take to do that?" Arthur wondered.

"Not a lot," Merlin answered. "Really, Arthur, you don't have to treat me like a damsel. I'm Emrys, remember? I have plenty of magic to draw from. It'll take a lot more than a muffling spell to knock me out of commission."

Gwaine's eyes were shining as he grinned. "Merlin, mate, I can't wait until we go on our next patrol. I want to see exactly what you can do now that you don't have to hide anymore."

Merlin let out a bark of laughter. "I'll tell you one thing, it's going to be a lot easier making camp now that you know."

There was a round of chuckles and Arthur found he was just as curious as the others in discovering what Merlin could actually do.

"So, now that we won't be overheard, what do you mean you can speak through your mind?" Percival reiterated, bringing the subject back on point.

"It's a standard ability among the druids," Merlin explained. "A few sorcerers can do it but they're hard to come by. Most of the time, in order to use the ability, you have to be within a certain range to be heard. I've found I'm the exception to that rule. So far I've been able to contact anyone I wish, no matter the distance – though it leaves my brain feeling a little fuzzy the further away a person is."

"That's… incredible," Elyan voiced.

Merlin shrugged, uncomfortable with the looks of awe his friends were sending his way. "It really isn't that big of a deal," he muttered. "Anyway, Iseldir was the one I contacted – I've known him the longest – he said his people are willing to help. They should have the rings ready by morning if I get them to their camp within the hour."

"Within the hour? But, we don't have the rings made!"

"Don't worry, Leon, apparently Merlin can make them with very little effort," said Arthur. "Although, how are you going to do that without revealing yourself?"

Merlin smirked. "Well, you've already told the men of your mysterious magical protector. All I have to do is cloak myself."

"But people will notice you're missing," said Elyan.

Merlin snorted, a slight frown on his face. "All of _you_ would notice because I matter to you. To the others, I'm just a face in the crowd. Nobody questions when Arthur's manservant disappears somewhere. It's one of the perks I've used to work magic in Camelot all these years."

"It's not going to stay that way, Merlin," Arthur fiercely declared. "When all of this is over, Camelot will not only recognize you but they'll look to you as a hero."

"Your optimism is grand, sire, but people can be incredibly stubborn concerning their opinions," Merlin contradicted.

"Opinions can change under drastic measures," Arthur smiled. "We're going to win their hearts tomorrow, I can promise you that. Magic will be free again, old friend. Nothing will stop me from changing that law."

Merlin's smile was deep. "Thank you, Arthur." He then stood up and clapped his hands. "Right, Tristan, do you mind if I magic your coat temporarily?"

"What? Oh, um, sure," the smuggler said with a hesitant shrug, "As long as I get it back at some point."

"There's bound to be someone with an extra tunic and shoes around here, Merlin," Arthur muttered, finally realizing that after their adventure to Avalon the warlock was still rather bare, clothing-wise. His feet were so dirty that the king wondered if any amount of soap and water could return them to their proper color. Guilt filled his chest. Why hadn't he tried to remedy Merlin's predicament sooner? Probably because he was too caught up in the euphoria of having him back to normal. Inwardly berating himself, Arthur made a mental note to pay closer attention to Merlin's temporal needs in the future.

"I'll see if I can find something," offered Percival before Arthur could do so himself. Nodding to him in approval, Arthur watched as the large knight wandered off towards a group of men originating from the lower town.

"I'd still like to magic the cloak," Merlin muttered. "If you want me to remain a mystery until tomorrow, Arthur, I can't go wearing a cloak tonight that belongs to someone else in the camp."

"You can change mine," Tristan said with greater reassurance.

Merlin sent him a grateful smile. "Thank you, Tristan."

Percival returned a moment later with some shoes and a dark grey tunic. "It's not your usual," he said apologetically.

"Better than nothing," Merlin answered, sitting back down to quickly pull on the boots.

"How do they fit?" asked Guinevere.

"They're a little snug." His eyes flashed gold and he let out a comfortable sigh, "Well, they used to be."

"What about the tunic?" said Elyan.

"I'll put that on once I'm in the woods," Merlin muttered. "I'd rather not have to explain to everyone why there's a serket sting on my back."

"Why are you going to the woods?" Leon asked, bemused.

"Honestly," Merlin smirked, "Camelot's secret sorcerer protector can't come trundling out of the midst of the camp. It's more mysterious if I appear from the cover of the trees. Gather the men and a few metal materials, Arthur. Tell them that if they want to participate all they have to do is hold out their hand with the palm towards the ground. I'll emerge in ten minutes."

Arthur raised a curious brow. "Did you just give me an order?"

"Yes and you'd better get on it," Merlin muttered as he stuffed the tunic inside the coat under his arm. "We don't have a lot of time and I have to meet up with Kilgharrah so he can take the rings to Iseldir. Do you know how long that bloody cryptic dragon can take? Sometimes I think he takes his time just to vex me."

And without another word Merlin tromped off. Arthur watched him go, thoroughly amused. A week ago he never would have thought he'd be sitting in an army camp talking about magic and dragons with his bumbling manservant, a couple of smugglers, the love of his life, and his most trusted knights. Yep, his life had definitely taken a dramatic turn.

"We'd better do as he says," he sighed, standing up. "I'd rather not have to deal with a grumpy Merlin."

"You are the strangest king I have ever met, taking orders from manservants," Tristan opined but there was no malice in his tone. In fact, if Arthur didn't know any better, he'd say he was teasing him.

The king shrugged. "Better to be strange than to be a pompous tyrant. Come on, let's gather the men."

Arthur went about with a silent prayer in his heart. His men were about to be exposed to perhaps the first bit of good magic any of them had ever seen. He could only hope that Merlin would be able to pull this off without scaring any of them _. I have faith in him_ , he reminded himself. Merlin had never let him down. Why should this be any different? With renewed faith, he gathered his troops and soon they were all standing at the edge of the woods.

Some of the men displayed a combination of bemusement and annoyance; sleep was something they coveted and having to stay awake without an explanation the eve before battle didn't sit too well.

Arthur stepped forward and cleared his throat. "My brothers in arms, I apologize for keeping you from retiring but this could not wait. I said earlier that magic could only be fought with magic. I received a message from our Protector containing a plan that will shield those of us without magic from enemy spells."

There was a mutter of interest and apprehension that ran through the crowd. Arthur raised his hand and the chatter died. He briefly explained the shield rings and the response he received was more intrigued than fearful. Taking this as a good sign, Arthur glanced over his shoulder and could barely make out Merlin's cloaked figure in the woods.

"To make sure the rings fit, our Protector has asked that we participate by holding out a hand. He will make the rings from these discarded shields and sword." – He gestured to the gathered pile of metal at his right – "Those who are uncomfortable with this method can choose not to participate but know that you leave yourself vulnerable to magical attacks from Morgana's sorcerers. If you wish to receive magical protection, please raise your hand in front of you now in this manner."

Arthur raised his hand so it was sticking out in front of him with the palm facing towards the ground. He was both surprised and pleased when almost every man did as he asked. Only a handful refused but none of them, to the king's delight, were knights. Tristan and Isolde were among those whose hands were raised, standing next to Guinevere.

Arthur smiled at them before quietly clearing his throat. "Emrys," he called over his shoulder. "Step forward."

The men froze in place as twigs began to break under the boots of the man answering his King's call. Clothed in a midnight blue cloak and hood, with a confidence that radiated quiet power, the warlock stepped out of the shadow of the trees and made his way to where Arthur stood. And then, to everyone's surprise, Camelot's Protector gracefully knelt before his sovereign. A voice pulsating with power and authority spoke beneath the hood and if Arthur didn't know it was Merlin, he would have thought this man was someone else entirely.

"Once and Future King," he greeted, "as always, it is an honor to serve you, sire."

Arthur smiled, his eyes softening with the fondness he reserved only for Merlin. He didn't noticed the few gasps coming from some of his knights as he bent down and took the warlock's hand.

"Rise, old friend," he said, helping Merlin to his feet. "Thank you for offering your help to us once more."

"I'll be happy to give it, my lord, 'til the day I die."

"I know," Arthur smiled.

An understanding passed between them before Merlin faced the gathered soldiers. "I promise no harm will come to any of you," he said in a gentle tone. "All that is required is for you to keep your hands out and remain as still as possible."

Doing as he asked, the men straightened and then stood still. Taking a deep breath, Merlin whispered a quiet spell. The glow of his irises shined from his hood for a brief moment but not enough for anyone to see his face. A small gasp escaped the men as the metal on the ground lifted and instantly changed to molten liquid. Emitting a soft golden glow, the fluid metal drifted through the air, breaking into small pieces before wrapping around each man's middle finger, forming a ring.

"It doesn't burn," Arthur heard Sir Pelleas say to Sir Gareth.

Arthur's own hand was encompassed with a ring and a smile lit his face as he felt the familiar warmth of Merlin's magic peacefully washing over him. The feeling didn't last long, however, for all too soon the ring was formed and it was wiggling its way off his finger. It shot through the air to join the collection of rings gathering in a bag Merlin was currently holding. The last ring, belonging to Guinevere, plopped into the bag ending the constant clang associated with clinking metal. Merlin quickly tied up the bag and whispered another spell. Arthur noticed his shoulders relax and the king couldn't help smirking; he suspected the warlock had cast some kind of weightless charm to make the bag easier to handle.

"Is that it?" one of the men asked, breaking the silence.

"That's it," Emrys answered. "You'll find the rings returned to you tomorrow morning when you wake."

He turned to go but Pelleas called out to him. "Wait!"

"Yes?" Emrys asked, turning around.

"How will you know whose ring belongs to whom?"

A light chuckle came from under the hood. "Magic has its ways, Sir Pelleas." He turned back to Arthur and deeply bowed. "I will return tomorrow, my king."

Arthur inclined his head before Emrys slipped back into the cover of the trees, his cloak slithering across the ground. Everyone stayed silent until it could no longer be heard. After a moment's pause, Arthur cleared his throat and gave the order for the men to retire. They went without complaint, some rather wary that magic had just been used but as Arthur walked hand in hand with Guinevere back to his bedroll, he heard more curious whispers on the wind than anything else.

With a smile, he lay down and looked up at the starry sky.

"Good luck, Merlin," he quietly whispered.

* * *

 **Next chapter I give you the battle! Some of you are wondering how Merlin is going to look when he fights... will he be old? Will he be young? You'll find out in five days! :) Until then, leave a review please! They always make my day and inspire my writing.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Last chapter I received some of the most touching reviews I've ever had. Thank you all so very, very much! I truly am humbled and I am so grateful that all of you are loving what I have written. Life has been kind of difficult for me as of late so reading such kind words from all of you has really brightened the past few days. Your reviews never cease to make me smile. Now, I am beyond excited to give this to you! :D It was so much fun to write and I hope I leave you cheering for our favorite warlock and king as they set out to reclaim Camelot!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin**

* * *

11: To Battle

The next morning Arthur woke just after dawn, energized and ready to meet the challenges of the day. Today he would march with his small band of men and take back what belonged to him. He had no doubts that Morgana would fall today but he was slightly nervous as to how the people were going to react towards Merlin. Speaking of, the king noticed the warlock curled up in a bedroll next to his. Dark smudges were under his eyes and he looked a little pale. Arthur frowned.

"Merlin?" he muttered, shaking the man's shoulder.

Merlin kept his eyes closed but his forehead scrunched together as he grumbled, "What do you want, clotpole?"

Arthur smirked. "Are you usually this surly when Gaius tries to wake you?"

"It's nothing compared to you, believe me," Merlin quipped as he yawned and sat up, "Though I must say I'm always astounded that you have no problems waking when you're not in your soft warm bed. Maybe you should sleep on the floor all the time? It might make things easier for me."

Arthur flicked his ear before stretching. That's when he noticed something shiny lying in the dirt next to him. Reaching over, the king plucked up a silver ring. The metal was warm, like it had been baking in the sun's low rays for a few hours. As the king slipped it over his finger, he felt a thrill go through him – a very _familiar_ thrill.

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Merlin?"

"Hmmm?"

"I thought you were going to have the druids enchant the rings."

"I did."

"Then why does mine feel like it's been enchanted with _your_ magic?"

Merlin looked up at him with a mixed expression of surprise and sheepishness. "How could you tell it was mine?" he asked curiously.

Suspicions confirmed, Arthur's frown deepened as he answered with a shrug. "It's… well, familiar to me, I guess – like an old friend."

Merlin's grin was wide but it slipped from his face when he noticed the angry glare of the king. "You're looking at me as if I did something I shouldn't have."

"You lied about asking the druids for help," Arthur accused. "I thought that now I knew the truth you could trust me with being honest!"

Merlin's eyes lit up with understanding as his jaw dropped. "You think I lied about the druids? Arthur, you cabbage head! I didn't lie about that!"

"Then why is my ring pulsating with your magic?"

Merlin rolled his eyes. "I thought that would be obvious!" he snapped.

"Well, it isn't!" Arthur retorted.

"How many times do I have to say this before it will get past your thick skull?" Merlin sighed, exasperated. "Arthur, it's _my_ _job_ to protect you, not the druids. They cast the spell for the other rings but I did yours myself."

Arthur sat back and stared at the ring resting on his middle finger. Realizing his mistake, his annoyance melted away, replaced with gratitude. "I don't know what to say," he muttered, glancing up at the warlock.

Merlin started playing with the grass next to his bedroll. "I'm not going to lie to you anymore, Arthur," he mumbled, clearly hurt. "I was going to tell you about the ring but you jumped to conclusions."

Arthur sighed. Perfect. He just had to go and accuse Merlin of lying to him again. Though he felt incredibly guilty for doing so, he couldn't be blamed for his accusation. Merlin had been keeping secrets since they met. It was natural to be cautious when one's trust had been so remarkably violated. The king realized this might unfortunately be an issue for a while between the two of them. Arthur's trust in Merlin hadn't been broken but it had been damaged. It would take both of them to repair it and that required a little bit of humility.

Running a hand through his hair, Arthur sighed. "Look, Merlin, I'm sorry."

"Your suspicions were warranted, sire," Merlin replied gloomily. "I've been anticipating them, actually."

"Merlin, you know that I still trust you, right?"

The warlock's demeanor was cautious but hopeful as he answered, "I think so."

"I do trust you," Arthur emphasized, shaking his warlock's shoulder a bit. "It's going to take some time to build up to what we had before but I'm willing to get through it if you are."

A sparkle lit within Merlin's eye as he began to grin. "Only if I can call you out on all the times your being a prat."

Arthur's gaze narrowed playfully. "As long as you give me full rights to call you an idiot if I feel you're hiding things again."

Merlin chuckled. "I suppose – but, Arthur, keep in mind that I've had to hide my whole life. It's going to take a while for me to get used to complete honesty."

"And there's no better way to start that than stepping out of the shadows today," Arthur stated. "Now, tell me what happened with the druids before anyone else wakes up."

Merlin obliged. The druids had been more than happy to help in the cause, especially since the promise of legalizing magic was accompanied with the victory of Arthur's success. They had worked tirelessly throughout the night to make the shields on the rings and when they were done Merlin had returned to Kilgharrah's side; Aithusa was with him – Merlin having sent her to him while Arthur chased him through the woods last night. They had then flown back to camp where Merlin quickly distributed the rings with magic before falling asleep almost instantly where Arthur had later found him.

"Kilgharrah and Aithusa have agreed to fight should you need them, Arthur," Merlin finished. "Though Kilgharrah understands that the situation may be delicate, he wanted me to tell you if there's a chance I'm in danger, he'll show up whether you like it or not. Aithusa implied more or less the same thing although she also made it clear that she's going to defend you too no matter what the cost."

"They're both rather protective, aren't they?" Arthur muttered, his brow furrowed.

Two dragons bent on protecting their dragonlord definitely gave him cause to be wary. Arthur wasn't necessarily comfortable with the idea of Kilgharrah and Aithusa fighting with them; he didn't want to frighten the people. He suspected that Merlin's magic was going to be terrifying enough and he didn't want to overwhelm them.

He shared his concerns. "Exposing the people to magic is going to have to be a gradual thing, Merlin," he said reluctantly. "They're going to have a hard enough time dealing with what they'll witness today. We're going to need their full support in order for the change in law to be successful."

"I understand, Arthur," Merlin replied and the king was relieved to see he wasn't bitter. "Kilgharrah understands as well. Aithusa was a little harder to convince though. She's really taken a shine to us. Kilgharrah says we're almost like her hatchlings even though we're both far older than she; apparently it's a female dragon thing."

"Did you have to command her to stay away?" Arthur asked, amused and slightly disturbed that he was labeled in such a way in Aithusa's eyes. He didn't know how a dragon mother reacted when her children were hurt but he'd seen enough mothers defending their children to know that it would be unwise to disregard what Aithusa was capable of.

"She wasn't happy about it at all but I commanded her to remain by Kilgharrah's side," Merlin confirmed.

"Good," Arthur sighed. "If things become dire I may change my mind but for now I want Camelot to remain dragon free."

"I told them to stay close to the city and wait for my call should it be necessary."

"Let's hope it won't be. We have you after all."

"Yeah," Merlin mumbled, his shoulders tensing.

"Merlin?"

"Sorry," he said, shaking his head. "I'm just nervous."

Arthur scooted closer to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I have all faith that what you do today will be the best you can give. That's all I ask for. And you won't be alone; I'll be right beside you."

"Til the end?" Merlin asked, appearing very much the insecure little five year old who had captured Arthur's heart.

Struck by an overwhelming love for the warlock, Arthur latched onto his forearm and grasped it tightly. "Til the end, my brother," he stated.

Merlin's answering smile was worth its weight in gold and the king was very pleased to know that he was the one who'd put it there.

"Come on, let's get some breakfast."

[][][]

The morning had passed with exclamations of surprise as the men found the rings specifically designed for them resting by their heads. Merlin had instructed Arthur that the shield spell would activate under an incantation he would say once they reached the gates of Camelot. The enchantment would hold for an hour. Arthur felt that was plenty of time. They had the element of surprise on their side and though Morgana had an army, they had Emrys. The king glanced at his friend who was currently sharpening some of the knights' swords. Out of the corner of his eye he couldn't help noticing Sir Pelleas and Sir Owen staring at Merlin as if they'd never seen him before. Arthur's brow furrowed. He was considering whether to confront them concerning their peculiar behavior when Isolde and Tristan wandered over to him.

"Tristan, Isolde," he greeted with an inquiring brow as to what they wanted.

"Arthur," Tristan began, "All my life I've shied away from other people's wars and despised the power and wealth that kings buy with the lives of men, but you've shown yourself to be different."

"You've shown us that you fight for what is right and fair, and, for that reason, we would like to fight at your side," finished Isolde.

Arthur was speechless. He never would have thought the smugglers would have had such a change of heart towards him. He'd honestly been thinking that they were coming to say goodbye. It made him rather happy to know they weren't. They were good people, even if Tristan was a little rough around the edges.

"I'd be honored to have you at my side," he said sincerely. "We'll stand together as equals."

The two smugglers smiled at him and as they walked away a rather curious idea occurred to Arthur, one that he just might implement after all of this was over. Besides, Isolde wasn't the first woman to prove herself capable with a sword and Tristan was perfectly qualified in his eyes... perhaps…

He'd run the idea by Merlin and maybe the council – though the latter may put up quite the fuss. Even if they did, Arthur cared more about what Merlin thought and usually the warlock approved of his decisions to break tradition. A smile spread across the king's face. There were many changes heading Camelot's way and Arthur was thrilled to undertake them. But those changes would have to wait until after they'd reclaimed the city. Putting the matter to the back of his mind, the king went about helping with the last of the preparations.

It took less than an hour for his men to properly array themselves for battle. The knights were dressed in their finest, their red capes billowing behind them as they quickly scrambled about helping the other volunteers gather weapons and protective gear. Merlin had taken Arthur's chainmail to wash it clean in the nearby stream, returning twenty minutes later with the metal gleaming.

"I gave it some protective enchantments," he admitted as he helped pull the mail over Arthur's shoulders. "It won't protect you from the more dangerous curses – I would have had to conjure stronger incantations for that and I ran out of time to do so – but what's there should deflect things like small spells, arrows, and swords. Besides, the ring should protect you from any other life-threatening magical attacks."

"Thank you, Merlin," Arthur muttered gratefully as he took the gloves the manservant held out to him and slipped them over his fingers.

Merlin then presented the sword he'd removed from the stone. Taking the weapon with fondness, the king carefully slid it inside his belt, the blade resting comfortably against his hip. Merlin praised his work with a nod.

"You're ready," he said.

"Are you?"

Merlin shrugged and gave him his trademark half smile. "As I'll ever be."

The order was then spread throughout camp and the men lined up in order to depart. With Merlin at his side, Arthur made his way to the front of his men and surveyed them with pride.

"Citizens of Camelot," he addressed, "today we return to our city to regain what has been so cruelly taken from us. Morgana's forces may be greater in number but we are greater in heart. We fight not for the pleasure of power but for the sanctity of our homes, our families, and our lands. We will succeed this day, my friends. I urge each of you to keep your hearts open to what you will witness during this battle. I know there are some of you who are still wary of magic. I ask that you allow your eyes to see that the prejudice we have practiced is incorrect. My father was wrong. Magic is not evil. It is a force that can be used for either good or evil dependent upon a person's choices. Emrys, our magical protector, has chosen to defend us and has sworn fealty to me. He will not fail us. I ask that you treat him as you would treat me for he is our comrade in arms in this battle and it is only with him that we will be victorious in reclaiming what has been stolen from us."

Arthur observed his men and found that several of the knights were staring at Merlin. Had they somehow figured it out? How? Everyone had done their best to keep the secret. He certainly hadn't told anyone anything. Had one of the others? No, they were all trustworthy. They would never betray Merlin like that. So why were his men staring at his manservant with such interest?

Arthur wanted to voice these concerns to Merlin but now wasn't the time. Setting them aside, he drew his new sword and held it aloft.

"For the love of Camelot!" he shouted.

The cheer was echoed by the gathered force. Sending a reassuring nod to Merlin, the king sheathed his sword, spun on his heel, and started the march towards his beloved city.

Merlin and Guinevere walked side by side near the front. Though happy that she was there, Arthur didn't like the idea of Guinevere marching with them into battle. He knew that she could handle herself with a sword – she was a blacksmith's daughter after all – but the thought of her getting hurt was more than Arthur could bear. Merlin had reassured him that nothing would happen to her and from the gleam in his eyes Arthur suspected that he wasn't the only one to receive extra protections from the warlock. Arthur was truly grateful. He didn't know what he would do without the man.

Camelot's rescuers were quiet as they made their way through the trees. A couple of times the king saw Merlin slip away only to return a few minutes later looking a little winded. On one of these occasions Arthur beckoned him over to explain his behavior and the warlock revealed he was taking down patrols he'd seen in the path ahead. Arthur shouldn't have been surprised that Merlin could do such a thing but he was. How often had he used that particular ability? The king thought back on it, remembering several times when Merlin's 'funny feelings' had been ignored only for a group of bandits to appear in the woods a moment later. Arthur made a note to trust Merlin completely in future. He was amazed that though Merlin said he was taking down patrols, there wasn't a hint of fallen men along the trail they took. Perhaps the warlock had used some kind of spell to deviate the patrols from their path? That would seem like something Merlin would do. Subtly was the warlock's specialty.

The trees eventually began to thin and Arthur sent ahead a scouting party with Percival as the leader. The other men waited anxiously for their return, their feet shuffling in the dirt, their hands flexing towards their weapons. Arthur felt the same. The anticipation of battle caused every sense he possessed to surge with hyperawareness. Every little thing was noticed, from the soft whisper of the wind touching the leaves to the gentle scurry of some ignorant animal in the foliage. Arthur's blood was pumping quicker through his veins and he was overcome with the urge to rush forward and attack. The king tried to school his emotions but it was proving difficult.

It felt like hours had passed – though it had only been about half an hour – when Percival and his men returned. Arthur raised an expectant eyebrow, waiting somewhat impatiently for their report.

"The wall is well-manned, sire," Percival confirmed. "Every gate is guarded with at least twenty men. Most appear to be normal mercenaries but I wouldn't be surprised if a couple sorcerers had also been dispatched at each gate. Morgana has taken great measures to make sure she will not be overrun. Every man we could see is armed with a sword and the soldiers above have crossbows at the ready. They are on high alert. Part of me fears they may even be anticipating our attack."

"Impossible," Arthur muttered, his brow furrowed.

"Sire," Merlin called delicately.

Arthur motioned for him to come forward. Breaking ranks, Merlin lowered his voice so only Arthur could hear. "It _is_ possible Morgana knows we're coming."

"What do you mean?"

"I guess I need to remind you that your sister –unfortunately- has the gift of Sight. She could have seen a vision of this battle and sufficiently prepared herself for it."

"Then she knows the outcome!" Arthur despaired.

"Not necessarily," Merlin comforted. "The gift of Sight does not reveal all but _parts_. If her men are so prepared, she's probably seen that we will attack. That doesn't mean that she knows exactly what we're capable of. Keep in mind she doesn't know I'm Emrys."

"But that will change after today," Arthur stated.

Merlin nodded with a heavy sigh. "Indeed it will… But I think I'm ready to step out of the shadows, Arthur. Don't worry about getting into the city. Just pick a gate you want to go through. I'll take care of the rest."

Suddenly finding himself excited to see what exactly Merlin could do, the king nodded and readdressed Percival. "Thank you for your report, Percival. You and the others can rejoin the ranks. Spread the word quietly that we will attack from the west gate."

"Sire," Percival answered with a bow.

With one last glance at Merlin, Arthur sent another signal with his sword and the group continued their march through the trees. The west gate was close to the citadel itself. Arthur wanted to avoid damaging the lower town as much as possible. The route was the lesser sacrifice the king was willing to make because it was where the merchants normally set up their stalls; which were easier to rebuild than people's homes.

Though his vision was hindered by the thick foliage, Arthur was able to deduce that the doors to the west gate were heavily barred shut and well-manned just as Percival had said. Men stood on the battlements three feet apart, their shrewd eyes locked on the forest, their hands filled with crossbows. Higher officers wandered back and forth along the wall, their spears bobbing slightly up and down as they passed the crossbowmen.

The king raised his fist, signaling for his men to hold their positions before turning to Merlin. The young warlock caught his eye and left his post among the men, stopping at his side. Arthur rested his hand on Merlin's shoulder.

"Are you sure about this?" he muttered.

Merlin smirked, his earlier nerves being swallowed up in confidence. "Do you trust me, Arthur?"

"With my life," the king answered immediately.

" _ **Awerian,"**_ Merlin whispered, his eyes burning a brilliant gold.

There was a collective gasp as everyone felt the rings on their finger grow warm. Arthur stared down at his hand, his ring glowing softly like Merlin's eyes.

"The shields will spring into action the moment a threat is upon you," Merlin revealed. "We have an hour, Arthur – best to use it wisely."

And before the king could say more, his manservant ran out of the trees into plain view. Several of the men let out exclamations of dismay.

"What is that idiot doing?"

"He's blown our cover!"

Arthur tuned out these concerns as he gave Merlin his full attention. His entire body was tingling with excitement and anticipation. Whatever was about to occur, it was the milestone that was going to reshape the kingdom, and he'd be a fool to miss it.

The Southrons lining the walls held similar expressions of surprise as they witnessed a lone man in nothing but peasant clothes race his way out of the trees. Too stunned by his sudden appearance, they were unprepared for what happened next.

Merlin skidded to a stop twenty feet away from the gate and crouched down. In a voice that echoed into the trees, the words of the Old Religion flowed gracefully from the warlock's tongue. _**"Ic þe bebiede þæt þu abifest nu!"**_

Arthur watched in fascination as Merlin slammed both palms into the dirt and the ground visibly lurched like a wave from the impact towards the city. The king had never been in an earthquake himself but he'd read about them in his various studies of Camelot's earlier history. The only thing different about the described event and what he was witnessing was that while the ground beneath him was solid, the earth in front of Merlin rippled like a disturbed lake. Arthur was momentarily worried about the effect this would have on his city but then he remembered just who had instigated this attack. Merlin wouldn't allow anything bad to happen to Camelot.

Sure enough, the quivering ground caused Morgana's men to lose their footing while keeping the city walls intact. Merlin didn't waste any time waiting for them to regain their balance. Straightening his lengthy form, the warlock held out one hand and shouted, " _ **Brecan!"**_

The wooden entrance of the west gate shattered into a thousand pieces, chips of lumber flying every which way, revealing several rather stunned men on the other side of what used to be a door. With another flick of his wrist, Merlin caused the men within to fly back several feet, their bodies crumbling against the stone. At this point the quaking had stopped and the men on the battlements had returned to their feet. Loading their crossbows, they aimed for the warlock.

" _Fire!"_ someone shouted.

Arthur's breath stopped in fearful awe as over thirty different bolts released into the air, directed towards his brother.

Merlin quickly raised his hand and bellowed, _**"Fréosan sé herewæpen! Edhwierft**_ _ **úpcyme!"**_

The bolts froze in midair before flipping around and zooming back towards the men they originated, piercing them right in the heart. Screams of the dying were heard and several bodies fell over the battlements into the grass. Arthur's jaw was left dangling as he watched his seemingly harmless manservant take down thirty men without breaking a sweat.

"We need a sorcerer!" a soldier fearfully shouted from the wall. "Someone, fetch a –"

But the man never finished his sentence because Merlin had cast yet another spell rendering him dumb. He wasn't the only one either. Several Southrons had grabbed their throats and gagged but no sound issued past their lips. The mercenaries started shouting at each other but it was like watching a group of rather frustrated mimes; their arms waved comically, their eyes bulged, and the veins in their necks pulsed but no matter their efforts, they remained mute. Arthur found himself smirking.

" _Emrys!"_ he heard Pelleas gasp somewhere behind him, finally over his shock. "Merlin is…?!"

Several cries of, _"He's a sorcerer!"_ and _"Merlin is Emrys!"_ were shouted down the king's ranks.

Gwaine swore quietly beside him. "Remind me to never get on Merlin's bad side."

"No kidding," Leon muttered.

The warlock took that moment to look over his shoulder and shout, "The way is clear, sire, but it won't be for long!"

Overcoming his astonishment and grinning like a fool, Arthur unsheathed his sword and shouted, " _For the love of Camelot!"_ before sprinting from the woods without a backward glance.

If the Southrons were surprised before, they were completely flabbergasted now. Their eyes widened at the sight of over five hundred soldiers converging from the trees with the King of Camelot in the lead. Silent screams framed their faces as they reloaded their crossbows and fired at the oncoming enemy. A ripple of magic appeared in front of Arthur, forming an ethereal sphere of gold. It enveloped his person but moved with him, surrounding the king in a globe of protection. Two crossbow bolts shattered against the anomaly, wood and metal gliding along the surface over Arthur's head leaving him completely unharmed.

Similar shields had been constructed over several of his men, some of them shouting out in dismay until they realized the obvious display of magic was _protecting_ instead of harming them. A round of relieved laughter escaped some of the soldiers and their confidence grew as they witnessed the protection Emrys had promised save their lives.

Arthur's grin was wide as he caught up to Merlin who was almost lazily removing men from the wall with a flick of his wrist and a flash of his eyes. "Clever, Merlin," he praised as his shield disappeared, the threat now neutralized.

The warlock's stride matched his own as the two of them led their army into the city. "Thanks," Merlin grinned. "It's good to see they work."

The growing shouts of angry Southrons could be heard making their way towards them, the warning bell going off in the distance at an alarming speed. When the first of the mercenaries came into view, Merlin glanced at the king.

"Do you want me to take care of them or would you and your men like something to hit?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "We're not completely incompetent, Merlin. Besides, you need to save your energy for Morgana, remember?"

"Alright," Merlin sighed, bending down and removing a sword from one of the unconscious men he'd blasted back after the gate was shattered. Arthur raised an eyebrow at him. "What?" he asked.

"Are you sure you know how to use that?"

Merlin snorted. "Please, with how often I've been your training dummy I've picked up on a few things. Trust me, Arthur, I might not be as good as the knights but I can hold my own."

The king found himself smirking. "Just remember the pointed end goes towards your enemy not yourself."

Merlin rolled his eyes. Grinning, Arthur flipped his sword with his signature move before rushing forward to meet Morgana's soldiers. He was pleased to see Merlin and Leon in either corner of his eye and hear the shouts of his men ringing against his back as they raced along the path. Arthur's heart pulsed and his muscles throbbed in excited anticipation. Moments later, his sword connected with the ax of a rather daunting Southron. The man let out a snarl as he matched Arthur blow for blow. Searching for a weak spot, Arthur found that though the mercenary had incredible upper body strength, he lacked good footwork. Using this to his advantage, the king blocked another downward stroke before twisting to the side and slashing his opponent's leg. Arthur slammed his hilt into the Southron's neck, finishing him off. It came as no surprise when another soldier replaced his fallen comrade. Arthur wasted no time, taking the man down after a few well aimed strikes.

The sounds of battle raged all around him, men crying out from inflicted wounds while their victors stepped over their fallen bodies to engage another enemy. Surrounded by friend and foe, Arthur's mind was consumed in the fight. He soon lost count of how many men he'd slaughtered and he spared no time dwelling on it; the dead could be counted later. Over the din, he vaguely heard Merlin shouting an occasional spell. A few times he was able to make out his brother and he had to admit, Merlin was fairly decent with a blade. His footwork was atrocious but he made up for it with his magic.

Despite how exposed he was, the warlock didn't have a mark on him. Arthur breathed a sigh of relief at this. Merlin wasn't the only one unscathed either. The shields had surprisingly protected all of his men not only from magical attacks but fatal physical wounds. Every time a man came close to harming him, the king's finger would grow warm as the shield burst into existence. It would disappear either when the threat was gone or when Arthur would go on the offensive; it seemed to know when the king was no longer in mortal peril. Arthur made a mental note to send bounteous gifts to the druids; because of them, none of his men had fallen.

Arthur didn't realize how close they were to the courtyard until they were practically at the gates. Merlin blew them down with a thrust of his hand, sending the men in front of them flying backward with the chips of wood. Arthur led the charge inside but stopped short at the sight of no less than fifty unarmed men and women standing with their backs straight, their eyes filled with murderous intent, and their palms pointed forward.

Sorcerers.

Thinking back on it, the only magic Arthur had seen during the fight from the west gate to the courtyard belonged to Merlin. Apparently Morgana had decided to save her greatest weapons as the strongest defense. The witch herself was nowhere in sight; probably hiding away in the throne room. Arthur scowled and tightened the grip on his sword.

"Let me try to speak with them," Merlin muttered in his ear.

The king glanced at him. "Merlin, something tells me they don't really want to negotiate."

"Arthur, please."

Sighing, he gave in to those pleading blue eyes. "Alright, but if I see even a hint of offense…"

"I know," Merlin smiled grimly, patting him on the shoulder. "I'll make sure to rescue you."

Arthur scoffed. "I was implying to save _your_ sorry hide, Merlin."

His eyes holding a hint of amusement, Merlin stepped away from Arthur and addressed the gathered sorcerers. Arthur and his men fanned out around the outer edges of the court yard – well, those he'd kept with him; once they gotten closer to the citadel he'd made sure to send Leon and a few other knights to different sections of the city to purge it from any lingering Southrons.

"Traitor!" one of the sorcerers shouted as Merlin advanced. "You have magic and yet you fight for a Pendragon!"

"Last I checked, Morgana was a Pendragon too," Merlin snidely replied.

"Unlike that false king, the Lady Morgana possesses magic! She not only accepts but is also one of us!" a young witch declared, her companions voicing their agreement with loud shouts.

Arthur watched as Merlin's form straightened. Gone was the clumsy manservant, the goofy grin missing and the insecurity nonexistent. Standing before them was a man who had an infinite amount of strength and power. His eyes radiated with wisdom, his countenance glowing with the fierce inner rage swirling beneath his skin. This was Emrys, the greatest warlock to ever live. This was the man Arthur had caught glimpses of, who had advised him and protected him with a loyalty none could fully comprehend. And when he spoke, his very voice rattled the king's bones, causing even his soul to quake.

"Though you have done it in ignorance, I implore that you refrain from insulting my King again," he said, his words echoing off the stone walls.

"You may have magic but you are just one man," a pompous sorcerer jibed, stepping a little away from his fellows. With a sneer, he looked Merlin over and added, "You are no match for us!"

"We'll kill you and your pathetic king!" shouted another.

There was a roar of approval and Arthur stiffened in dread. _So much for negotiations_ , he inwardly thought as the air filled with incantations followed by balls of fire shooting straight towards his warlock. Arthur unconsciously stepped forward to defend but Merlin was too far away for him to do anything. Merlin raised his hand. Without a word, the fireballs fizzled from blazing infernos to puffs of smoke. Not a single one made it more than halfway across the open space.

The sorcerers stood there stunned, their eyes bulging out of their heads. Arthur's men were just as shocked, the remarkable feat just as unbelievable to them as it was to their enemies. The king himself didn't realize his jaw was dangling again. He'd felt the fire on the opposite end of the courtyard, had seen how massive the attack was, but with a mere flick of his wrist Merlin had wiped the attack from existence. Arthur was just beginning to understand how powerful his servant really was.

Incensed, a few of the sorcerers came out of their stupor and tried to attack again, flinging what Arthur suspected were balls of pure energy towards the lone warlock. Almost lazily, Merlin flexed his fingers and the spheres stopped in midair. With a flash of his eyes, he sent them flying back to their attackers. Each hit their mark, their creators dropping onto the cobbled stones like flies.

The fall of companions spurred the remaining majority out of their astonishment and soon the courtyard was filled with multiple malicious incantations. The space erupted into pure chaos. Arthur instinctively dove out of the way as something that looked suspiciously like lightning streaked past, slamming into the stone behind and burning a hole through the solid rock.

"You alright there, princess?" Gwaine asked, helping the king to his feet.

"Yeah," Arthur muttered, watching the damaged stone bubble and hiss as it eroded away, "thanks."

"Look out!" someone shouted.

Arthur's shield sprung into being just before one of the statues of his castle fell from above right on top of him. The stone immediately burst into rubble, trickling down the shield and creating a circular pile around the king. Arthur was able to make out Merlin who had formed his own shield around himself, the onslaught of spells too chaotic for him to focus his own offense. The king's eyes narrowed. It was time to even the odds.

" _On me!"_ he shouted, rallying his men.

Charging forward, the king trusted in the magic ring to protect him from enemy spells as he rushed passed a surprised Merlin and thrust his sword into the belly of the nearest sorcerer. The man's body froze in surprise, his glowing yellow eyes dimming to a dull brown. With a gurgled gasp followed by a strangled cough of blood, the man began to crumble and the king removed his sword.

Someone roared out a spell in indignation and though his shield protected him, the force sent Arthur skidding six feet backward. The king looked around wildly to find his attacker, briefly noticing that his men were engaged in fighting their way through the sorcerers, when another blast pushed him further away from them. Arthur finally locked eyes with a deranged woman with fiery green eyes and light brown hair. She was stalking towards him with a murderous countenance and palms filled with fire. She threw her arms outward and Arthur took an instinctive step back, bracing himself for the impact. But the fire suddenly froze three feet in front of him and a man stepped in front of its path, coming to the king's defense. Arthur's jaw dropped.

Alator, the man responsible for cursing Merlin, was redirecting the flames back towards the offending sorceress. The fire wrapped around the woman and she let out a scream which was cut short as her body was consumed, her ashes drifting away on the wind. Alator turned around and faced the king before bowing respectfully to him.

Arthur tried and failed to form a coherent sentence. "Why–? What–?"

The sorcerer smiled apologetically. "Forgive me for my earlier ignorance, Once and Future King. I did not realize who you and Emrys were until after your flight from the city. Gaius revealed the truth to me and I swore my allegiance to you and Emrys from that moment on."

Arthur was temporarily speechless. This was the first sorcerer besides Merlin he'd seen protect him. "Thanks," he stuttered, not knowing what else to say.

Alator nodded to him before turning back to the battle, rushing off and waving his staff, sending several men and women flying through the air. Arthur prayed none of his men would accidently run the man through; it was rather comforting, knowing there was one other sorcerer fighting for their cause.

Looking around, the king deduced that the war waging in the courtyard was not going very well. The sorcerers had a clear advantage with their magic, using loose debris and elemental spells to keep enough distance between themselves and his men's weapons. Tristan and Isolde were off to the side, dodging behind pillars in order to avoid several sorcerers flinging broken masonry in their direction. Guinevere was next to Elyan, the two fighting a couple witches who had magicked swords of their own to clash against them. Percival was in the process of throwing a rather terrified sorcerer into a gathering of men who had surrounded Gwaine. More red capes than Arthur wanted to see lay on the ground, their owners unmoving. And in the midst of all the spells rocketing through the air and the shouts echoing in his ears, Arthur saw Merlin.

The man's eyes were a constant gold, his hands a synchronized dance, as elemental spells erupted from his palms. A golden sphere flickered into being around his person every time an enemy spell careened his way but the light shimmer paled to the onslaught of fire, water, and raw blue energy flying from the man's fingertips. Arthur's jaw dropped in fascination as Merlin swirled his finger and a cyclone sprung into life, picking up three enemies at once and sending them flying through the air.

"Wow," he breathed.

It was terrifying and beautiful at the same time. He never would have thought scrawny, innocent Merlin would be capable of such incredible feats. He also realized that he wasn't afraid of the warlock at all. Arthur had no doubt that if he wanted to, Merlin could rule the world. So much power surged inside the man and yet the king knew he never would have to worry about it being turned against him. Even while witnessing such astounding works being wrought with fire, lightning, wind, and earth, Arthur knew he was safe and, in the midst of a war, he was overcome with gratitude.

What he was witnessing, the power his warlock possessed, was given to _him_. Merlin stated it was his, that it always had been, and that he would use it only for the purpose of protecting his sovereign. Arthur felt his throat close up as his love for the warlock surged in his chest. So distracted was he that he was unprepared for the sword flying right for his head.

"Arthur!"

The metal blade stopped an inch from the king's nose and Arthur gasped, flinging himself backward, his arms pin-wheeling as he lost his balance and fell. Merlin was running to his side, his face contorted with fury, his hand raised as he redirected the sword into the stomach of a vengeful sorceress. The woman screamed in pain as she toppled to the earth, her life leaving her as blood pooled from her wound, mixing with that which had already been spilt onto the cobblestones.

Merlin skidded to a halt, his breath coming in gasps as he wiped sweat from his brow. "Are you alright?" he panted.

"Yes," Arthur confirmed after assessing himself. "Merlin – the shield?"

"It's been over an hour," Merlin grimly confessed.

Arthur paled as he wildly looked around. No wonder so many of his men lay injured or even dead. He hadn't even realized they'd been fighting for so long. Merlin was covered in ash, dirt, sweat, and in some places, blood. His eyes surveyed the chaos with the king, anger leaping from their depths.

"This has to end," he muttered. "We still have to face Morgana." He turned to the king. "Arthur, have your remaining forces gather in that corridor over there" – he pointed to the east where several pillars supported an open corridor – "I'm going to create a shield that should protect you while I finish dealing with these fools."

Arthur grabbed the warlock's arm. "Merlin, there are too many of them for you to fight alone."

The warlock's smile was ferocious, his eyes glinting with his power. Arthur let go of his forearm, slightly stunned by what he saw – and perhaps a little awestruck too. The way Merlin was looking at him; he held no fear.

"Trust me, Arthur. Thanks to you and the others, their numbers are small enough that I think I can take care of the rest."

The king didn't like the idea of leaving Merlin alone but he saw the wisdom in drawing his men away so the warlock wouldn't have to work around them. Nodding reluctantly, Arthur sprinted off, shouting at the top of his lungs, gaining his warriors' attention. A spell unexpectedly slammed into his back, sending the king flying. Landing on his left arm, Arthur heard something crack as remarkable pain raced up the limb. He cradled his arm to his chest, gritting his teeth. He was pretty sure he'd just broken his wrist.

"Arthur!"

He glanced up just as Leon fell to his side; he must have been successful ridding the Southrons from his section of the city since he was here. The man's curls were drenched from the sweat of battle, his lip -having been split- sported a small trickle of blood and his jaw a slight bruise. But the knight had no consideration for his own wounds as he filled with worry for the king.

"Are you hurt?" he inquired.

Arthur tried to smile but it was more of a grimace. "Fine," he hissed.

Leon helped him to his feet but the king stumbled forward as his right leg wobbled a little beneath him. Great! From the pain in his wrist, he hadn't even realized he'd sprained his ankle. Failing to mask his pain as he gasped, Arthur nearly toppled over. Leon caught him, wrapping his arm over his shoulder and helping him limp towards the wall.

Merlin appeared at his side in an instant.

"What are you doing here?!" Arthur growled.

"You're hurt!" he snapped, his eyes filled with worry.

"Yes but you shouldn't –"

Arthur stopped and his eyes widened as he saw a spell flying towards his unsuspecting manservant. Pushing Merlin out of the way, the spell slammed into the king's chest, ripping him from Leon's support and sending his body crashing into the wall. His head smacked against the stone and he saw stars, his stomach revolting as nausea overtook him. Arthur's body felt like it was on fire as he crumbled onto the ground. He let out a gasp but stifled it as another kind of pain wracked his chest. He'd broken a rib. Maybe more than a rib, if the pain was anything to go by. Gracious, it hurt to breathe!

" _Arthur!"_

It took longer than it should have for Arthur's eyes to focus on the person who'd called out to him. He knew that face… who was it? Merlin. Yes, that was Merlin. He faintly heard the warlock' s loud swear, barely noticing his gaze filling with horror and desperation as he surveyed him.

"Arthur!"

Another voice, gentler, softer; Guinevere. His sweet Guinevere. She fell down by his side, her hand slipping into his and squeezing the fingers in worry. The king finally managed to focus on her face. Her brown eyes were glossy with unshed tears, her lip trembled, and dried blood rested over her right eye from some form of cut. She was beautiful.

"Gui-n-vere," he mumbled, his lips oddly wet.

"Oh, Arthur," she whispered, tears on her face as her hand caressing his cheek, "hold on."

The king's brain felt fuzzy, his eyes becoming unfocused. Was he dying? It wouldn't really surprise him. He'd been hit by something awful and his head throbbed something fierce. He was so tired. Would it really be so bad falling to sleep in Guinevere's arms? It was a dream he'd wished for, for many nights. Perhaps, just this once, he could break propriety… his eyelids began to flicker closed.

"Oh no you don't, you clotpole!" someone shouted. _"Stay awake!"_

The voice was far away and brought with it a faint sense of irritation and affection. Arthur had to think really hard why that was. Right, Merlin had just insulted him. He might have even shaken him. Couldn't he see that he was trying to sleep?

"Mer…lin," he slurred before coughing.

He tasted something coppery on his tongue. Was that blood? He opened his eyes but his vision filled with dark spots. His breathing became, if it were possible, even more ragged and painful than before. He really didn't know how much longer he could endure the agony. His chest felt like someone had smashed into it with a battering ram and every breath he took was cut short as pain ripped across his skin. It was becoming harder to stay alert; the king's vision became impaired by a permanent fog of darkness and his hearing filled with a strange roaring sound. His brain was taking too long to process what exactly had happened to him – though he was sure of one thing: _it was utter torture._ He felt like he'd been inwardly punctured by a thousand needles, the sharp points poking holes through every inch of his innards with incurable suffering. Everything hurt and he just wanted to sleep. Why wouldn't Merlin just let him sleep?

"Arthur, hold still," Merlin commanded somewhere above him.

Arthur hadn't even realized he'd been moving. Perhaps he was writhing in agony? Well, Merlin couldn't fault him for that! Everyone moved when they were in pain!

The king smiled weakly and wheezed, "Don't tell – what to do."

He really didn't know how much longer he could take this pain. Even bantering with Merlin was taking too much effort.

"Shut up," Merlin growled before his words transformed into some sort of gibberish.

The last thing Arthur saw through his darkened vision before passing out was a brilliant flash of gold from Merlin's eyes.

* * *

 **(Hides behind secure battlements to avoid furious, frustrated fans for leaving them hanging for five days before they find out what happens next.) I love you all! (she calls before ducking to avoid a flaming arrow) Please leave a review! (dodges an ax)**

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Spell translations:

Awerian – to ward off, defend, restrain, protect, cover

Brecan – to break, shatter

Ic þe bebiede þæt þu abifest nu – spell used by Merlin to shake the ground in Season 5 Episode 4 Another's Sorrow

Fréosan sé herewæpen! Edhwierft úpcyme - Freeze the weapon! Return to place origin.

Ágælan stede – to hinder still

Ádumbian – to become mute or dumb, keep silent, to hold one's peace


	12. Chapter 12

**Hi everyone! Thank you all so much for patiently waiting for this chapter. I appreciate all the reviews and I know Arthur is grateful that none of you seem to want him to die. On a personal note, this chapter is given so late to you because... I GOT ENGAGED! *squeals happily all over the place* But, because I love all of you so much, I tried my best to stick with my 'update every five days' schedule. So, here it is! The aftermath!**

 **PS: For those of you reminding me about plotholes and to remember the question "What happened to the king's ward?" Thank you for the reminder and I did have a solution to that. I hope you like the results that will come. For now, enjoy chapter 12. :)**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin**

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12: The Truth

His body was bathed in a golden glow, the warmth caressing his skin like steam rising from a natural hot spring. The sweet aromas of fresh lavender drifted through the air, reminding him of love and comfort. Soft grass provided a perfect bed and a slight breeze ruffled his golden locks. A sigh of contentment escaped his lips through a smile.

"Arthur…"

His eyes fluttered open, the exposure of bright sunlight drawing his lids together several times in quick succession. After adjusting to his surroundings, Arthur discovered that he was in a garden near a section dedicated to a rather lovely collection of purple flowers. Lavender… Guinevere's favorite. The king smiled, unconsciously leaning forward to more fully enjoy the scent. A slither of fabric somewhere to his left distracted him and Arthur finally realized he wasn't alone. A woman was striding towards him.

She wore a long gown, the color of buttercream, ingrained with diamonds that sparkled as they caught the light with each movement she made. Her golden hair was pulled back away from her face, a few tendrils escaping to rest around her pale features. Her eyes glistened like the surface of a lake in the summer sun and her smile radiated with loving kindness.

Arthur's mouth dropped open and he hastened to his feet. He knew who she was. He'd seen her once before, long ago, though that encounter was tainted by the belief that she had been the workmanship of a wicked High Priestess. But this meeting was different somehow. Arthur didn't know how he knew that but it was the truth. This was real.

"Mother," he whispered, the yearning in his heart propelling him towards her.

Ygraine opened her arms and Arthur stepped into them, his gloved hands wrapping around her tiny frame and holding her as tightly as he could. His head nestled into the crook of her neck and for the second time, he felt the unique safety, love, and peace that only her embrace could give.

She pulled back but kept contact with her small hands on his broad shoulders. "You've grown so much since last we met, my son," she praised, her eyes alight with love and pride. "Once a prince stood before me but now I am greeted by a king."

"So that really was you?" he muttered earnestly, drinking in every feature before his eyes. "That wasn't an apparition brought about by Morgause?"

Ygraine's smile saddened. "No, Arthur, it was not. Morgause may have been corrupt but she was a woman of her word."

"So… everything you told me…?"

"Was the truth," she confirmed.

Arthur frowned. "But, that would mean Merlin lied… He said… he said it was an illusion. Why would he do that?"

Hurt and confusion raged within him. He had been prepared to strike Uther down that day, to right the wrongs he had done to every man, woman, and child who practiced magic. The man had caused so much pain and suffering in order to ease his guilt for killing his wife so he could have a son. Arthur would have ended the hypocrite's life then and there had Merlin not stopped him. So why? Why would Merlin save a man who would see him executed without a second thought?

"Arthur, do not be angry with Merlin," Ygraine consoled. "He has wisdom beyond his years. He knew that if you killed your father you would have immediately regretted it. It would have destroyed you."

Arthur looked up at her with pained eyes. "I shouldn't care for him! If what you said before was true – he killed so many people! He's a _murderer!"_

Ygraine's smile was painful and sad. "Uther did unforgivable things, Arthur, but he was still your father and he loved you very much. He may have had a hard time showing it as you grew but those tender years of your childhood cannot be ignored. You felt his love and in return you loved him. Merlin stopped you from killing him because he knew how shattered you would have been destroying a man you still idolized."

Arthur's eyes closed, his soul wracked with pain. His mother was right; though his opinion of his father had been crushed from the respected man he once believed in, he still loved the selfish king and he _would_ have immediately regretted his actions. Merlin may have had to lie to him but it was for his emotional protection. That man; this was just another display of his insane loyalty and his willingness to sacrifice personal happiness for someone else. How many other times had he done this?

Arthur found himself scowling. "It would seem that I really need to learn just exactly what has been going on in Camelot since that idiot walked into the city."

Ygraine laughed and Arthur thought it was one of the most beautiful sounds he'd ever heard. "Don't be too hard on Merlin, my son. He has done so much for you."

"Don't worry, I was only thinking of giving him a week in the stocks," Arthur joked.

His mother shook her head, an amused smile on her face. Arthur grinned boyishly at her before clearing his throat and looking around. "So, where exactly are we?"

"Apparently the Palace Gardens," she answered. "They are just as grand as I remember."

Arthur began to frown as he stared at the peaceful scenery, faintly recognizing it. Birds chirped overhead under cloudy skies of purest blue, the various plants and flowers nodded back and forth in a gentle breeze, and the air thrummed with the life of spring. It felt wrong. Something wasn't right.

Arthur's eyes widened. "I was dying." He looked around wildly at his mother, his fear mounting. "Am I…?"

"No," she said gently, taking his hand. "You're not dead, Arthur."

"But we were fighting Morgana's sorcerers – I was hit by some kind of spell –"

"Peace, my son," Ygraine soothed, leading him over to a stone bench surrounded by roses, their large blossoms spiraling outwards in beautiful arrays of red and white. "You are between the realms where your spirit is still tethered to your body. Your time to pass is not yet for there is much to be done in order to accomplish what Destiny and Fate have in mind for you."

Arthur's brow furrowed. "You know about –"

"You being the Once and Future King?" she interrupted. "Yes, son, I know of it. From the moment I held you in my arms I knew you were meant to accomplish something great. As I was passing into death I saw in vision the king you would become. You still have long to go but you are on the right path. I am quite proud of you."

Arthur felt warmth erupt inside his chest and a smile climbed his cheeks. His mother was proud of him. She'd been watching over him this whole time. But… if that were true… Arthur began to frown.

"Arthur? What's wrong?"

Arthur kept his eyes downcast as he mumbled, "How can you be proud of a son who has accomplished so little?"

"You are being modest–"

"No," Arthur shook his head, "I'm being _logical_. Merlin has yet to explain to me what he's been up to since he arrived in Camelot but I'm not an idiot. I have no doubt that every magical threat I supposedly defeated was actually his doing."

Ygraine took his face and gently turned it towards her. "That man has done more for Camelot than anyone _save you_. You should have more faith in yourself, Arthur. Your victories are Merlin's and his victories are yours. You need each other in order to succeed. Do not second guess your importance. Albion needs both its king and its warlock in order to exist."

"So you agree with me about magic; about lifting the ban?" Arthur asked curiously.

"Of course, my darling," she answered with a smile.

"But, father–"

"Before your birth, magic was being abused but it wasn't outlawed. There were many who desired power and they misused their gift so much it brought fragility to the security of the land. Your father had already been having many discussions about changing the laws concerning magic but he was hesitant do so because he had many friends who were sorcerers. As strange as it may be for you to hear, your father was one of those who defended magic in the council meetings."

Arthur raised a skeptical brow. "Truly?"

Ygraine nodded. "Yes. But his views changed dramatically after my death and your birth. Guilt and sorrow transformed into hatred and your father's crusade to purge the entire land of magic brought about twenty years of ignorance to the next generation. You've been raised to believe magic is evil but it is not. It simply is. You are right to change the laws, Arthur. Magic is one of the fabrics of this world. It can never truly be eradicated as your father foolishly believed. It lives in the very earth. You have seen what it can do, what it is capable of in the hands of both good and bad men. Magic is needed in order for Albion to be. It will take time, but with Merlin at your side you will restore the people's belief and faith in it."

Arthur stared at his mother and smiled. "You really believe the people will change their mind?"

Ygraine's return smile was wide, her eyes twinkling with some hidden knowledge. "I believe that you will be surprised with how supportive they will be. The nobles might take longer – they are quite stubborn – but they too will change. Merlin has a remarkable capacity for changing people's hearts."

Arthur's face softened. "Yeah he does. He's special."

"Very," she agreed. "I'm glad you found each other. He has helped you in more ways that I would have thought possible. Stay close to him, Arthur. He needs you just as much as you need him. Oh, and concerning the girl who has stolen your heart, I would suggest you pursue her before someone else tries to take her away."

Arthur drew back in surprise, his cheeks turning pink under her knowing gaze. He cleared his throat. "You know about Guinevere?"

Ygraine giggled. "Of course I do! And you have my blessing. Marry the girl you love, dearest. She is a rare gem amidst the coals."

"She's the most important person to me – besides Merlin."

"I know." The Queen smiled before leaning forward and wrapping him in an embrace. "I love you my son," she whispered in his ear.

"I love you too, mother," Arthur muttered, somewhat confused. Why did it sound like she was saying goodbye?

The answer to his silent inquiry came a moment later when Arthur was lurched away from her, seized upon by some unknown power. She and the garden disappeared completely as he was enveloped in shadow. His vision blurred into darkness and he lost all movement in his limps. Terror gripped his heart and he attempted to struggle but he couldn't even wiggle his fingers. What was happening?!

In a burst of disorientation, the king's eyelids flew open and movement was restored, his body jerking into a sitting position. It was a very foolish move; nausea and aching pain laced through his mind and body. Leaning over the bed, the contents of his stomach fell onto the stone floor. He thought he heard someone calling his name but his hearing was muffled and his vision fuzzy. His mouth tasted awful and his muscles – particularly over his chest – felt like they had been stretched beyond their capacity. Groaning, he allowed someone's strong but gentle hands to push him back into his pillows. Lack of movement allowed him to stabilize his vision and soon he was able to make out a familiar crop of black hair over a pair of relieved blue eyes.

"Merlin?" he mumbled groggily.

Throat dry, the king coughed and his lungs immediately protested, aching something fierce. Had he been kicked in the chest by a horse? Good gracious, the pain! Something was pressed to his lips and liquid poured against the sides of his mouth before Arthur responded. The cool water washed across his tongue, soothing the discomfort in his throat. He pulled away when he had his fill and Merlin replaced the goblet next to his bedside but he didn't leave his position on the bed.

"Arthur?" he questioned, his voice filled with fear and anticipation.

Arthur finally managed to take in his surroundings. He was in his room. _How the–?_

"How did I get here?" he wondered, groaning again when his chest throbbed.

"Easy," Merlin ordered, resting his hand on his shoulder. "You shouldn't be moving."

"What happened?" Arthur demanded, shoving Merlin's hand away and immediately regretting it as another wave of pain shook through him.

"I'll tell you if you promise not to move," Merlin replied reprovingly.

Arthur glared up at him before consenting – only because his body hurt. Closing his eyes, the king took a slow, deep breath. The movement of his lungs filling with air was painful but not unbearable.

"Alright, Merlin, I promise. Now, tell me how in heaven's name I ended up in my bed when the last thing I remember is saving your sorry backside from a mad witch's spell!"

A small smirk lifted the corner of Merlin's mouth. "Well, if you must know, you were dying."

"I gathered that!" Arthur snapped before gasping as his sides ached again. "Ugh, why do I feel like I've been trampled by a raging boar?"

"If you kept quiet..." Merlin grumbled though his concerned gaze betrayed his tone.

Arthur groaned, falling further into his pillows. "Alright, alright, just tell me what happened."

"Like I was saying, you were dying," Merlin muttered, straightening Arthur's wrinkled bedspread before resituating himself again beside him. "You were hit by a curse that basically shattered your ribcage and punctured your organs. You were bleeding from the inside out."

Arthur's eyes widened. "Then… how am I even alive? Did you heal me?"

Merlin rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Actually, yeah. It was the first time I've succeeded with healing magic on the first go."

"Not true," Arthur countered. "Your five year old self healed Isolde on the first try."

Merlin blinked. "Hmmm, maybe I'm getting better at it? Anyway, the point is, I basically had to recreate your ribs and heal all your organs – and let me tell you that was a heavy amount of magic! It left me quite drained actually. But I wasn't about to let you die – not when there was so much I still needed to tell you."

"Right," Arthur frowned, "so you kept me alive to clear your own conscience?"

Merlin smirked. "Something like that."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "So, then what happened?"

"Well, I suppose I should back up a bit," the warlock muttered, scratching the back of his head. "The moment you were hit, something within me snapped. Arthur, you have to understand, when it comes to your safety… well, Gaius says I can be a bit reckless…"

"Merlin, what did you do?"

"I – sort of – well, the thing is –"

"Yes?"

"Sometimes my magic manifests itself in emotion and it kind of went wild when you were hit." He paused, his eyes downcast in guilt and shame. "My magic instinctively sought out and killed the sorceress who struck you down before wrapping a containment field around her remaining comrades. It was so powerful that when Morgana showed up –"

"Morgana!" Arthur cried, forgetting that he was in pain and sitting up again.

"Lie down you prat before you hurt yourself!" Merlin snapped as the king hissed and did as was bidden. "Yes, Morgana appeared – you couldn't very well expect her to stay holed up in the throne room when her sorcerers were losing?"

"What happened then?" Arthur demanded. "Did you fight? Did you beat her?"

Merlin sighed and shook his head. "Surprisingly, it wasn't much of a fight at all. She tried to free her sorcerers but when she realized that she couldn't even make a dent in the shield I made she started shouting, accusing Emrys as the culprit behind the prison. She invited him to step into the light and face her–"

"And did you?" Arthur interrupted.

The warlock scowled. "You know it's incredibly difficult telling you a story. I know you always like to hear your voice but once in a while you really need to follow your own advice and shut up, Arthur."

"Did you just–"

" – Tell you to shut up? Yes. Now, shut up and let me finish."

"I'm the king, Merlin!"

"Yes, yes, I can't tell you what to do. Anyway, so I stepped up to face her, she mocked me and said that there was no way I could be the man destined to be her doom. Alator of the Catha confirmed who I was and Morgana panicked. She cast a couple of spells at me which I warded off. She then looked around and decided to retreat, abandoning her sorcerers and disappearing in a burst of wind after claiming to one day get her revenge."

He said all of this very fast so Arthur wouldn't interrupt him again. It took a moment to process but when he finally registered the information, Arthur was staring at Merlin with a skeptical brow.

"You mean to tell me that Morgana learned you were Emrys, turned tail, and ran away? I knew your face was scary, Merlin, but I didn't think it capable of frightening off such a powerful sorceress."

Merlin scowled. "Ha ha, very funny. The point is, she fled before anyone could stop her. I healed you immediately after she left – and it's a good thing I did since you already looked like you were dead, you'd lost so much blood. Leon and Percival's squadrons took care of the rest of the Southrons in the lower town while the others cleansed the inner castle of any remaining enemy soldiers. I would have helped but after healing you I was pretty much useless. I rested for a full ten hours before waking. That's better than you though; you've been out for two days."

" _Two–?!"_

"Yes, Arthur, two days," Merlin nodded. "Now stop interrupting." – Arthur huffed, folding his arms. Merlin grinned – "Anyway, Gaius tried to make me stay in bed after I woke but I had to see for myself that you were alright. I've mostly been here since yesterday – only leaving to get food and what not."

"Well, I'll live," Arthur assured, "though I'm still sore."

"That's normal," Merlin shrugged, fingering a frayed thread on his red tunic. "Severe wounds like yours can't be completely healed because there's only so much magic can do when it comes to that particular practice. The body has its own natural healing process and magic can't interfere with that. I healed the inner and outer lacerations and mended the bones but your muscles and organs are still fairly tender. They'll have to heal naturally from now on and build up to their old strength. I'm afraid you won't be allowed to fight or train any time soon, Arthur. You might not even be allowed to go hunting either."

"You can't be serious!" Arthur cried in dismay.

Merlin did appear sincerely sorry as he shook his head. "It all depends on what Gaius says. It could be a lot worse; you could be dead."

Arthur scowled. "What am I supposed to do if I can't train or hunt?"

Merlin smirked. "Oh, I don't know, how about rule a kingdom? I heard a rumor that you were going to be changing laws soon and last time I checked that included a lot of sitting, reading, and discussing."

Arthur groaned, gently lifting his arms to rub his eyes; the last thing he wanted was to deal with nosy, pompous lords fighting him tooth and nail on a matter that was going to change no matter what they thought.

"The council is going to be a nightmare," he sighed.

"Don't worry, I'll be right beside you."

Arthur looked over at him and smiled. "Yes, I suppose I won't be the only one to suffer. As my First Advisor you'll be required to be there. Are you prepared for that?"

Merlin scoffed. "Please, you already made me go to all of the meetings anyway. The only difference is this time I'll actually be able to sit down."

Arthur laughed lightly, careful not to upset his sore ribs. "But you won't be able to fall asleep this time."

The warlock looked horrified. "Drat," he muttered with a deep frown, "that's quite unfortunate."

Arthur sighed. "What's unfortunate is how much prejudice we're going to face."

Merlin grew very still and Arthur's eyes narrowed from the deep frown and saddened expression on his best friend's face.

"Merlin?" he prompted.

"It's nothing," the servant muttered, standing up and walking over to the window.

Arthur scowled. "It can't be nothing. Tell me what's wrong."

Merlin stood silent for a while longer before letting out a deep sigh, his folded arms lowering to his sides in defeat. With his head still facing the window, he mumbled, "It's not that bad – most people accept me but…"

"But?"

"The townspeople and the knights have no problem with my magic," Merlin sighed, "but the nobles…"

Arthur's eyes narrowed. "What have they done, Merlin?"

The warlock flinched as if he'd been burned. "Not much," he hedged. "Just cruel words – it's nothing, really."

"Merlin," Arthur warned.

"Why is it important, Arthur?" Merlin snapped, turning to face him with a stubborn air. "I'm just a servant. It's perfectly natural for them to treat me poorly."

Arthur growled and slammed a fist down angrily on the mattress. Ignoring the pain and the answering look of concern filtering on Merlin's face, the king bellowed, "You're not a servant, Merlin! Nobody has the right to treat you as if you were rubbish!"

A sad smile lifted the corner of Merlin's mouth. "Nobody except you?"

Arthur froze, hurt punching his heart like an iron fist. "You're not rubbish to me, Merlin," he quietly whispered.

"I know," the servant mumbled, his eyes still on his worn brown boots.

Arthur bit his lip. He felt the familiar temptation to steer clear of 'feelings' but this needed to be said and it was important that Merlin knew the truth. "Merlin," he called.

The warlock's sad blue eyes lifted and the king was surprised to find the vulnerability there. The desperate longing for reassurance was shocking. Merlin was usually so strong but right now his insecurity was laid bare before the one man he would sacrifice everything for. Arthur's resolve to strengthen his brother outweighed any feelings of embarrassment and he kept the warlock's gaze in his own as he poured out his inner feelings.

"All those jokes about you being a coward," he began, "I never really meant any of them. I always thought you were the bravest man I've ever met. I may have thrown things at you, burdened you with ridiculous tasks, and commented on your incompetence but I never did so maliciously. I value your opinion above all others. Your friendship and the brotherhood we share is something I cherish more than anything and I would be a fool to take it for granted. You have more conviction and passion than any man I know and you are the greatest of us all. No man in my kingdom will ever oppress you again. Your magic will be recognized and welcomed in Camelot – even if I have to dismiss my current council to do so."

Merlin shook his head, horrified by such a suggestion. "Arthur, you can't do that – not for me–"

"For you I would give up my kingdom," Arthur interrupted. "I'm serious, Merlin."

"You can't say that," Merlin muttered, his voice breaking and tears forming in his eyes. "I'm not worth it. You don't know what I've done."

"Then tell me!"

Merlin froze. "Now?" he asked in disbelief.

"I don't have anything better to do," Arthur griped, "so you might as well pull up a chair and tell me what you've done for Camelot so I can finally decide for myself if you really are worth giving up the kingdom for – not that anything you say will change my mind."

"Don't make a decision in ignorance, Arthur," Merlin muttered darkly, his eyes filled with regret and guilt.

Arthur scowled. "Don't tell me what to do. Now get over here and start talking."

"Yes, sire."

The warlock grabbed a chair and dragged it over to Arthur's bedside. Sitting down, he rested his head in his hands and took a shaky breath before finding his master's eyes. "I'll tell you everything, Arthur, but could you do me one small favor?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Please don't interrupt me," Merlin begged. "It will be hard enough recounting everything and I'd rather not have to stop once I get started. If you have any questions, please save them for the end."

"Alright but only if you promise not to leave anything out."

A flash of hurt, sorrow, and guilt flickered within the warlock's eyes but he consented with firm determination. "I promise to tell you everything, sire – the good and the bad – but please don't think any less of me when I'm done."

Arthur sighed as he rested a hand on Merlin's forearm. "Nothing that you have to say will change my opinion of you, you idiot," he said affectionately.

The sad smile given in return did not reach Merlin's eyes. "We'll see," he whispered under his breath before clearing his throat and sitting back in his chair. "I suppose it all starts with my mother sending me away to Camelot…"

And so it began, the tale Arthur had been so desperate to know since he learned the truth about his manservant. Merlin was true to his word – he left nothing out – and Arthur kept his promise by remaining silent. Well, as silent as he could be. He couldn't help gasping a few times and letting out cries of outrage at others. Not to mention the tears – oh gosh, the tears. The worst was when Merlin spoke of Freya and the then prince's unknowing hand in her death. He'd killed the girl Merlin loved. How could he live with himself after learning this? How could Merlin have forgiven him?! If it had been Guinevere…

And then he'd so callously told Merlin that 'no man was worth his tears' when he was mourning the death of his own father! Of course Merlin hadn't pointed this out to Arthur – he was too kind to do so – but Arthur easily remembered his heartless words. Merlin had said no such thing when he had mourned Uther's death. He'd even sat up waiting for him all night! Who had done that for Merlin? Had he even had time to properly mourn those he had lost?

But the heartache didn't end there. Merlin had lost friends, allies, and friendships all for the sake of his Destiny – for _Arthur._ The man's loyalty went above and beyond the call of duty and the king realized with a profound epiphany that Merlin didn't do these things simply because Destiny dictated for him to do so. He sacrificed everything for his king because he _loved_ him and this revelation brought Arthur to the depths of humility. If he could be half the man Merlin was perhaps he could one day be the Once and Future King.

As Merlin's tale came to an end, Arthur didn't realize his cheeks were wet until the tears trailed down his neck. He did nothing to wipe them away, however. How could he? They were the only way he could release the gratitude pouring from his heart towards the greatest man he'd ever met.

"Arthur?" Merlin leaned forward in concern. "Are you in pain?"

A wet chuckle left the king's mouth and he shook his head. Even now, the idiot cared nothing for himself but for him! Impulsively, Arthur leaned over and enveloped Merlin in the fiercest embrace he could muster – which wasn't much given his current injuries. The warlock was stiff, his limbs frozen in place, but Arthur did not let go, not even when his chest throbbed in protest. If anything, his grip tightened and it was in this position that the King of Camelot's pride broke. He didn't know how long he sobbed into his brother's shoulder but he was aware that at some point Merlin relaxed into the embrace. He even patted Arthur's back a few times but he never once pushed him away.

It was only after Arthur had no more tears to cry that he finally let go of Merlin and fell back onto his pillows. His body was spent both emotionally and physically. His chest ached worse than ever and his eyes were sore and puffy. He didn't even have room to be embarrassed though he was comforted to see Merlin's eyes were just as red as his.

Sniffling, the king cleared his throat before thickly apologizing. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"Me too," Merlin whispered before hesitantly asking, "So… you don't hate me?"

Arthur looked at him in disbelief. "How on earth could I, Merlin?"

"I made so many mistakes," Merlin said, confused.

"Merlin you need to stop being an idiot and forgive yourself." The king reached over and took his forearm. "To me, there's nothing to forgive."

Merlin let out a strangled noise; a mixture between a sob and a gasp. He buried his head in his hands and his shoulders shook. "I never thought… I had hoped… but…" he raised his head, his eyes shining bright. "Thank you, Arthur."

Arthur shook his head. "No, Merlin. It is I who need to thank _you_. Everything you've done… for me… for Camelot… I know now. I promise, as your king, I will free your kind. I will restore magic to the land and I will make sure that every person in this kingdom -be they noble or commoner- knows you for who you really are and what you mean to me. I will never be able to repay the debt but I will strive the rest of my life to unite the five kingdoms in peace. You have carried this burden alone and unrecognized for so long, my old friend, but no longer will you have to do so. I'll be happy to stand by your side, Merlin, until the day I die."

The warlock was overcome. Renewed tears fell down his cheeks as he took Arthur's hand in both his own. "And I promise to help you fulfill that vision, sire, until my last breath. I and my magic are yours to command until the end of all things."

Arthur smiled and shook his head in wonderment. "Who would have thought that annoying idiot who challenged me all those years ago would grow into my greatest friend and warlock?"

Merlin laughed. "Who would have thought that arrogant prat I tried to teach a lesson to would grow into my sovereign and king?"

"Just sovereign and king?"

"Well, I suppose I could add best friend and prattish older brother to the list," Merlin grinned.

Arthur let out a weak chuckle. "I suppose, but only if you remain my idiotic little brother."

Merlin patted Arthur's hand before letting go. "You should sleep, Arthur. You're exhausted."

"But we have so much to discuss!" Arthur mumbled tiredly, his eyelids drooping against his will.

"We have plenty of time, Arthur," Merlin promised, readjusting the king's blanket so it was over his shoulder. "Now stop being a stubborn clotpole and go back to sleep."

"Idiot," Arthur mumbled.

"Prat."

A smile climbed the king's cheeks before he gave into his exhaustion and drifted to the land of dreams.

[][][]

A day later Gaius declared Arthur well enough to get out of bed but only after the king gave an oath not to wear a hint of chainmail or armor for another two weeks. He was also under strict orders not to participate in any manual labor – something that drove the king mad since he wanted to help in the cleanup effort. He had to stand by and watch as his people toiled throughout the day rebuilding what Morgana and her followers had destroyed during her short reign. He tried to make himself useful by delegating jobs that needed to be done but it didn't feel like it was enough.

He did have some fun allowing Merlin to use his magic to fix the more devastating damages to the stonework of the citadel – much to the noblemen's chagrin. The people and the knights were fascinated -even eager- to see what Merlin could do. They were still a little wary of him – Arthur noticed many of them weren't comfortable getting too close to him yet – but they weren't shouting for him to be executed either. The nobles, however, were terrified and enraged that the king was allowing magic to rebuild his castle. Unlike the townsfolk and the knights, they hadn't seen or experienced Merlin's efforts in reclaiming the city. Arthur didn't care what they thought though. He was bound and determined to expose his people as much as he could to magic being used for good.

That's how he found himself sitting on the courtyard steps watching as Merlin levitated a large chunk of masonry back to the upper balcony. Several servants and knights were scattered throughout the courtyard, watching with awe as the stone drifted upwards before resetting back in place, a faint glow of gold flickering through the cracks before both light and crack disappeared. The stone looked as good as new. Merlin wasted no time as he set to working on the next piece; either he was ignorant to all the stares or he was ignoring them. He had a determined look about him and Arthur didn't feel it wise to disturb him so he contented himself to watch. An unconscious smile was on his face; what Merlin was accomplishing in minutes would have taken weeks if not months to restore. Magic really was amazing.

His musings were interrupted when two of his knights, Bedivere and Kay, blocked his view. Arthur looked up, pleased to see them both, especially Kay. The knight had been left to rot in the dungeons along with the others who had stayed behind while Arthur had fled. All of them were malnourished and were also forbidden from participating in hard labor. The king was still dealing with the guilt of abandonment even though his men had adamantly expressed that he owed them nothing and they were only happy to have served him to the best of their ability. Such great souls; why had he been so blessed?

"How are you, sire?" Bedivere asked as the two men bowed to him.

Arthur shrugged. "Feeling useless, if I were honest."

"I feel the same," Kay admitted. "Gaius won't allow me to even pick up a pebble."

Arthur laughed. "I know the feeling – though Merlin hounds me to behave myself more than Gaius does."

Bedivere and Kay spared Merlin a glance, watching as he recreated a stained glass window from shards and crushed glass. The pieces flashed in an array of colors as they danced through the sunlight and zoomed back to their respective home. The window rebuilt itself in under a minute.

"Incredible," Kay whispered, shaking his head in awe.

"I never thought magic could be used in such a way," Bedivere muttered.

"Nor I until Merlin showed me," Arthur admitted.

Bedivere and Kay turned back to face the king, the latter nudging the former lightly in the ribs. Arthur raised a curious brow, suddenly becoming aware that there were other knights looking in their direction with eager faces. The king's eyes narrowed slightly. His men were up to something.

"Is there something I can help you two with?" he prompted.

Bedivere started a little before regaining his composure. "Actually, there is, sire."

He paused, shifting from one foot to the other. Bedivere wasn't usually a nervous man so why was he all of a sudden having difficulty speaking? Arthur thought about pressing him further but decided to wait. The knight would speak when he was ready.

"The men have been talking," Bedivere finally revealed, "and all of us can't help but notice someone dear to you is now missing."

Arthur frowned, wracking his brain. Someone was missing? Who? Perhaps one of the Round Table Knights? No, they were busy clearing away loose rubble thirty feet away from him. Gaius? No, no, he was tending to the wounded upstairs. It couldn't be Guinevere; she was on the other side of the courtyard filling buckets of water to quench the men's thirst as they worked. And it certainly wasn't Merlin. Had he missed someone?

"Who?" he asked when unable to think of anyone specifically.

"Arlin is gone," Kay stated.

"Oh." Arthur couldn't help glancing at Merlin briefly before looking back at his men. From the look on their faces he knew they'd figured it out even though he hadn't confirmed it.

"You don't seem that concerned, sire," Bedivere commented, a knowing flicker dancing in his eye.

"That's because there's no need to be," Arthur muttered evasively.

"Arlin was Merlin, wasn't he?" guessed Kay.

The king sighed in defeat. There was no point trying to deny it. Everyone would have found out eventually anyway. "He was," he admitted. "How did you know?"

Bedivere and Kay shared a triumphant smile before the latter shrugged and answered, "Well, for one, the only person besides Guinevere I have ever seen you so protective of is Merlin so when you suddenly started showing it to a five year old orphan... well, it raised my suspicions – especially since Merlin left with you to rescue Gaius and it was Arlin who came back. But the giveaway for me was when you shouted out Merlin's name during the battle and ran to Arlin's rescue."

"For the others, including myself, it was the way you looked at both Arlin and Merlin," Bedivere chimed in. "Oh, and Emrys as well. I'm afraid you're not very good at hiding your fondness for Merlin, sire. It was easy for us to connect the dots. We just wanted it to be confirmed."

Arthur groaned. "Great, now all of you think of me as some weak little girl who can't help wearing his feelings on his sleeve."

Kay leaned forward and ruffled Arthur's hair – something he hadn't done since the king was a young prince. "It's no secret to us how emotional you are, Wart."

Arthur froze for a moment before slapping Kay's hand away, looking mutinous. "I thought I told you to never call me that again, Kay!" he seethed, wishing he had his sword right now.

He _hated_ that nickname! Kay had given it to him when he had begun training as a knight, complaining that the arrogant prince was an unpleasant wart the king had inflicted upon him. Kay was the only one who had ever called him that and no matter how many times Arthur commanded him to stop using it, the knight ignored him. That is, until the day Arthur had blossomed into the greatest fighter Camelot had seen in years and challenged him to a duel stating that if he won, Kay had to stop calling him by the frankly embarrassing nickname forever. The knight agreed, Arthur won, and Kay had kept his promise – until now that is.

Arthur wasn't really angry that he'd done so either; he was more terrified that Merlin would have overheard. The last thing he needed was another insulting name from his unofficial Court Sorcerer. The man already had an arsenal of them and he didn't need any more! Unfortunately, luck was not on Arthur's side because a second later Merlin had burst out laughing near the base of the steps, a stone's throw away from where the king sat.

"Did he seriously just call you Wart, Arthur?"

"Now look what you've done!" Arthur snapped, rounding on Kay.

The older man's eyes were dancing with amusement. "Sorry, sire," he said, trying and failing not to grin.

"No you're not!" Arthur grumbled as Merlin sat down next to him and bumped his shoulder. Arthur shoved him in retaliation. "Shouldn't you be working, _Mer_ lin?"

"If you hadn't noticed, clotpole, I finished everything you asked me to do," the warlock replied with a smug air. "I was coming over here to ask what you wanted me to do next. It's not my fault I overheard something embarrassing about you. So, where did Wart come from? And can I use it?"

"You most certainly _cannot!_ " Arthur bellowed, his cheeks turning pink. "It was just some stupid name Kay gave me years ago but he's never going to use it again." He stared pointedly at the knight who schooled his features into something akin to subservience and nodded in consent.

"Well, if he can't use it then I think I will," Merlin mused. "It's a pretty good one. Too bad I didn't think of it first. You really are a wart after all, Arthur."

"Merlin," he growled.

The warlock grinned. "Shut up?"

Arthur punched him in the arm before his eyes glittered wickedly. "There's that. But I also think I neglected a chore to give you."

Merlin's smile transformed into a knowing grimace. "Oh, come on, Arthur, you can't be suggesting…!"

"My stables need to be mucked out and it will be done without magic before the end of the day," the king ordered.

Merlin rose to his feet, scowling. "Prat," he grumbled as he stocked off to do as ordered.

Arthur watched him go with a triumphant grin, already making plans to ask George to have a hot bath drawn up for the idiot to use. Another thought suddenly occurred to him.

"And don't forget to rearrange the siege tunnels like we talked about!" he shouted at the servant's retreating back.

Merlin spun around and glared at the king. "You want me to do that today too?"

Arthur's smirk deepened. "What's the matter, Merlin? Too much for the all-powerful warlock to handle?"

Merlin's eyes flashed with an inner fire. "I'm perfectly capable of mucking out your stables _and_ changing the siege tunnels, _sire_ – unlike _you_ who can't even manage to lift a pebble without moaning in pain."

"I'm on strict orders from Gaius not to work, Merlin."

"Oh, sure, use that as an excuse to save your manhood," Merlin grinned, sticking his tongue out before spinning on his heel.

"Those stables better be spotless, Merlin!" Arthur shouted after him. "Or you're going in the stocks and I'll have potatoes thrown at you!"

Merlin's reply was an unconcerned wave of his hand over his head accompanied with a lazy, "Yeah, yeah, whatever," thrown over his shoulder.

"Not to sound impertinent, sire, but why does he listen to you?" Bedivere asked curiously as Arthur grinned. "He's the most powerful sorcerer I've ever seen and yet he has never used magic to harm you even when you give him the most humiliating tasks you can think of."

Arthur's smile softened as he watched the warlock disappear around the corner leading to the stables. "I wonder that very thing sometimes myself, Bedivere," he admitted. "If you asked Merlin that question and he answered honestly, he would probably tell you that it's his destiny."

"What do you mean by that?" Kay wondered, intrigued.

Arthur wasn't really sure if it was proper to talk about the prophecy of the Once and Future King and Emrys. He should probably ask Merlin if it was some closely guarded secret before blabbing about it to anyone who asked.

"I can't explain now," he sighed, rising to his feet, "but one day I will."

He turned to leave when Bedivere called out to him. "Sire?"

Arthur paused, looking back at the two men curiously. "Yes?"

"Can we tell the others about Merlin being Arlin? Just to rest their weary minds on the matter."

"You can, I suppose," Arthur reluctantly allowed. He wasn't at all thrilled about the knights teasing him for his behavior during Merlin's temporary childhood but he couldn't deny he was looking forward to them teasing Merlin. "And if you must know it was Alator who cast the spell."

"Alator?" Bedivere repeated. "But I thought he was on our side. He fought to protect us after the druid shields disappeared."

"Before that he was working for Morgana," Kay answered. "But he defied her and went into hiding with Gaius after she had him torture him."

"How did you know that?" Arthur asked.

He'd learned of Gaius's dance with death at the hands of torture but he didn't know anyone else knew. The physician had explained to the king that shortly after Morgana had taken over the citadel, she'd taken him from the cells and ordered Alator to torture him for information about Emrys. The man eventually succumbed and revealed Emrys's identity and destiny. After that Alator switched sides, helped the physician escape, and kept him hidden somewhere in the lower town right under Morgana's nose.

"After the battle, I asked Gaius about what happened to him after Alator dragged him from the cell we were sharing," Kay answered. "The sorcerer may have helped us but I'm still a little wary of him."

"Where is he now?" Bedivere wondered.

"He's helping Gaius," Arthur answered. "He came to me earlier and requested the use of his magic to heal those whose injuries were too severe for natural ailments. I agreed but only after placing him under oath that he would not harm anyone and only use his magic for healing purposes."

"And he agreed?" Bedivere asked skeptically.

"Alator is loyal to Merlin and Merlin is loyal to me. The man can be trusted, Bedivere. Besides, how am I supposed to legalize magic if people only see Merlin using it for good? We have to convince others that he isn't the only one out there desirous to help."

"Wait, you're really going to lift the ban?" Kay cried.

Arthur frowned but then he observed that Kay wasn't hostile, just surprised. He relaxed and nodded. "In order for Albion to be, magic must be legalized. Besides, if it isn't, Merlin will never be free and I will not keep him in chains, Kay. He's had magic his whole life and persecuting someone for something that they didn't choose is the worst injustice I've ever heard. There will be laws to keep those who have it in line but I will not continue to carry on my father's unwarranted eradication of a misunderstood people."

Kay studied him for a moment before a grin climbed his face. "You're a better man than he ever was and a greater king, sire. I will stand by you in this endeavor."

"As will I," Bedivere vowed.

Arthur looked at them humbly, inclining his head. "Thank you."

The two of them nodded to him before walking away. The king watched for a moment before climbing the steps with a thoughtful expression on his handsome features. Having the support of his knights would greatly benefit the transition of the laws. Hopefully the others would have similar opinions as Bedivere and Kay.

Arthur had made it halfway to his room when someone called out to him from behind. He turned to see Isolde and Tristan approaching, the former sending him a warm smile, the latter a nod of acknowledgement.

"Tristan, Isolde, what can I do for you?" Arthur asked with a smile.

He'd heard from several people that both smugglers had stepped in to save several of his knights' lives at risk to their own. He'd also asked Merlin earlier that morning what he thought about making both of them knights. The warlock was completely supportive, saying that Isolde had more than proven she was capable of holding her own in a fight. That was all Arthur needed to make up his mind. He was going to ask them if they would like to join the knights but he'd become distracted by the cleanup efforts. This was the first he'd seen them since the battle. Both looked well, minor injuries covered in expert bandages – no doubt Gaius's handiwork.

"We just wondered how you were doing," Isolde said.

"You looked close to death even after Merlin healed you," said Tristan, his eyes holding a silent concern the king hadn't been expecting.

Touched by their worry, Arthur smiled. "I'm not back to full health but I'm no longer bedridden, thank goodness; I have little patience for lying still."

Tristan smirked a little. "Well, it's good to see you on your feet, sire; hard to run your shoddy kingdom from a mattress."

Arthur smirked. "Yes and last I checked I had several things to do – including dealing with the two of you."

Tristan stiffened, his eyes narrowing slightly. He stepped closer to Isolde, a protective arm settling around her thin shoulders. "And just what do you mean by that?"

"Relax, Tristan, I'm not going to throw either of you in the dungeons," Arthur said, rolling his eyes. "I actually wondered if the two of you wanted to stay in Camelot."

Isolde and Tristan, surprised, shared a glance.

"What would we do here?" Isolde wondered.

"Well," Arthur shrugged, "if it's something you're interested in, I was thinking of inviting you to join the ranks of my knights."

Tristan was completely bewildered. "Both of us?"

"Yes."

"But I'm a woman," Isolde pointed out.

"And I'm not a nobleman," Tristan stated.

Arthur shrugged. "Status and gender mean nothing to me."

"But the law –" Tristan began.

" – used to state that only noblemen could become knights," Arthur interrupted. "My law concerning the knights code is different. I judge men – and women – based off their character and skill and the two of you have proven yourselves more than worthy to be knights of Camelot."

The two smugglers were speechless, both staring at Arthur as if they'd never seen him before.

"You're not serious?" Isolde finally gasped, finding her voice.

"This is not a joke," Arthur promised, his expression regal and firm. "The offer stands and is yours if you want it."

Isolde looked to Tristan who was studying Arthur with a curious expression. "You are the strangest king I have ever met," he finally said before a smile spread across his face, "and that's why you're probably the only one I'd be willing to die for."

Arthur blinked in surprise. "You accept?"

"You seem surprised," Isolde commented with a grin.

Arthur chuckled, "Well, I confess I wasn't sure if you'd find me worthy enough."

"You're the only king worth dying for, Arthur," Isolde repeated with a smile, agreeing with her lover.

Arthur's grin was wide as he thanked them both. "I drive my men pretty hard," he warned them. "Are you sure you want to join the ranks?"

"I think we can handle it," Tristan said confidently.

"Alright," Arthur laughed, "the ceremony will take place tomorrow morning. I'll escort you to the royal blacksmith so we can get you fitted into proper armor. Shall we?"

The two beamed as they followed the king, Arthur feeling jubilant as he led them down the hall. Changes were happening all over in Camelot and the king was more than excited with the prospects of the future. He had a feeling things could only get better from here on out.

* * *

 **I know that a lot of you were probably wanting to read about the fight between Merlin and Morgana but, after careful deliberation, I decided to take a route of retreat for our famous evil High Priestess. From how terrified she is of Emrys, I could imagine her seeing that the odds were not in her favor and running away to fight another day. Besides, Morgana is Merlin's greatest foe. Killing her off right when she finds out he's Emrys would be rather dull in my opinion. Keeping her alive gives me chances to write more and I think you guys want more, right? ;)**

 **Virtual brownies to anyone who caught the Sword in the Stone reference (disclaimer: I don't own Disney either). Next to come: Arthur meets with the Council to discuss certain changes to the kingdom - and he might just have his heart in his throat when he finds a certain fair maiden to ask a very specific question... proposals anyone? ;)**

 **Review please! :D I love them so very much!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Thank you all for the congratulation reviews as well as the reviews in general. I'm so humbled by how many compliments this story is receiving. I am also extremely excited to hear your responses to this chapter. There's bromance (when is there not?), kingly grace and tenacity, Emrys vivacity, and lovely romance ahead! Enjoy it folks! It's a long one! :D**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin**

* * *

13: Proposals

Merlin finished helping Arthur into his vest, stepping back to survey his work. "All set," he said with a satisfied grin.

Since Gaius had forbidden the king from wearing any kind of chainmail or armor for the next two weeks Arthur was forced to wear his more formal attire -usually reserved for feasts and visiting nobility- for the ceremony that was about to take place.

"Thank you, Merlin," he muttered while unconsciously resting a hand on the hilt of the sword from the stone – it was the one thing Gaius would allow the king to wear. "Shall we?"

The servant nodded, holding the door open. The two wandered down to the throne room in comfortable silence though their thoughts were racing. This was the first time in Camelot's history that the honor of knighthood was going to be bestowed upon a woman. Arthur had summoned the entire court -including a few of his highest ranking knights- for the occasion; they didn't know that Isolde was to be knighted with Tristan so he'd asked the noblemen to gather early in order to break the news. He was sure that there was going to be protests so he felt it prudent to address them before the actual ceremony.

"You nervous?" Merlin muttered when they rounded the corner towards the throne room.

"A little," Arthur admitted.

"You'll be fine," Merlin said confidently. "Just speak from your heart and your words will touch them like they always do."

Arthur swallowed, nodding slowly. The guards pushed the doors open and he strode in with confidence, inclining his head slightly to a few of the lords as he walked towards his throne. Taking a deep breath, he spun around to face the gathering, Merlin slipping into his customary place near the wall as he did so.

"Friends," he greeted, spreading his arms in welcome, "I have summoned you today to witness an event that has never occurred in Camelot's history before. Many of you are beginning to realize that I am not my father and some of you may disapprove of my decisions but as the king of this land I feel I must follow my heart. I do not make decisions rashly. I counsel with my closest advisors, review their guidance, and draw my own conclusion based off what I feel would be best for my people and the kingdom I am trying to build. That being said, I have decided, after careful deliberation, to open the position of knighthood to women."

 _Of course_ there was an outcry. Following the gasps of shock and surprise, many noblemen stepped forward and started shouting at him at once. Arthur kept his stance and waited patiently for a while, hoping that the protests would fizzle into silence. Unfortunately they continued to escalate - that is, until a loud bang erupted from somewhere to Arthur's right. The noise rattled his hearing, leaving a strange humming in his ears for several seconds afterwards. Accompanying the sound was the bellow of a rather annoyed warlock.

"SILENCE!" Merlin roared, a thunderous expression painted on his rather terrifying face. The nobles unconsciously flattened themselves into the walls, horrified that the wizard was about to perform some dastardly spell on them. Ignoring this, Merlin strode forward until he was on Arthur's immediate right and chastened the entire court with controlled anger. "The king has decided to change one law and immediately you all erupt into something akin to caterwauling miscreants! If you wish to voice your opinion, step forward like civilized human beings - _one at a time-_ and present it to your sovereign with what little dignity you still possess!"

There was a stunned silence in which nobody moved – and then Lord Kriss came forward, bowing stiffly to the king while sending Merlin a rather dirty glare. "May I speak freely, sire?"

"Of course," Arthur said after glancing at the rather irritated warlock.

Lord Kriss swelled with fury and his voice shook as he spoke his mind. "Knighting women is a terrible idea, sire."

"And your reason for this is?" Arthur prompted.

"They're _women!_ " he shrieked. "They're not meant to fight! They have other roles to play and joining the ranks of knighthood is not one of them. It goes against every law of the land _and_ tradition!"

"Laws and tradition can be changed," the king stated, "and as the sovereign of this land I _will_ be making changes, Lord Kriss."

The nobleman shot Merlin a look of disgust and in a biting tone replied, "I suppose you're hinting at changing the laws concerning _witchcraft_ as well?"

"That is correct."

"Your father –"

"– _was wrong,"_ Arthur interrupted.

Many in the room gasped but the king had had enough. It was time to set a few things straight. He had originally planned to discuss this in the next council meeting but he might as well get it over with now. All the councilmen were present so why wait? Stepping back so he could address the room and not just the lord in front of him, Arthur squared his shoulders and spoke from his heart.

"My father did many great things as king but his decisions concerning magic were fueled by bigoted hatred which blinded him and narrowed the truth of such practice. Magic is not something to be feared. It is not something we should persecute and shun. Most of you, if not all, now know that Merlin has magic. But he is not a sorcerer; he is a warlock, a person _born_ with magic."

"That's impossible!" Lord Viridian scoffed. "People _choose_ to practice magic. They're not _born_ with it!"

"I was!" Merlin fiercely stated.

Though surprised by his sudden outburst, Arthur nodded to him in approval and allowed Merlin to have the floor. He figured that if the warlock was to be his Right Hand these men were going to have to get used to him taking charge. There was a collective shuffle as the court unconsciously shied away from the servant, fear and anger darkening their expressions.

"Whether you believe me or not is your choice but it's the truth," Merlin continued, undeterred. "I was moving objects before I even knew how to talk. Most of the magic I used before coming to Camelot was elemental, instinctive – I had little control over it. My mother sent me here so I could learn how to study and master something I didn't choose in order to protect me from ignorant men such as King Uther and yourselves.

"Imagine growing up having to be told you have to hide who you really are because if anyone found out you'd be executed. Imagine being persecuted for something you have no control over. What if there had been a purge of the nobility? ' _Oh, you were born a nobleman? That automatically makes you evil and you must be cast into the flames in order to rid the world of such filth._ ' Even you cannot deny how audacious that sounds!

"Now, while there has never been someone born like me before, there are many born with magical ability that develops naturally as they grow. Morgana is a prime example of this. Her magic started to manifest itself in her later years but _she did not choose it_. _It_ chose _her_. She decided to embrace who she was but her fear of being persecuted for something she had no control over led her to hatred. There are many like her who have become bitter towards Camelot because those who dwell here are too narrow-minded to accept them. Why do you think this kingdom has been attacked relentlessly in the last twenty years by vengeful sorcerers? They're desperate to be free of being treated as outcasts, renegades, and vagabonds.

"Those who practice magic are no different than anyone else. It is the choices not the abilities that define a person's character and identity. You have been exposed to men and women who have chosen to use their magic for ill but you have also been _protected_ with magic because I have chosen to serve and protect your king and his kingdom. His safety and life are my main priority and I will die before I allow any harm to come to him. He is my king and my sovereign and I pity anyone who tries to harm him for I am not just a warlock.

"I am the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth. I am the last Dragonlord, having obtained the gift after my father, Balinor, died in a noble cause. The druids call me Emrys, the protector of the Once and Future King, the King who will unite the five kingdoms and restore magic to the land. That King is Arthur and I have been doing everything in my power to protect and serve him in any way I know how. I therefore issue this warning: any who dare to even _threaten_ the wellbeing of my King will have the full wrath of my magic to answer to. Tread carefully."

"You dare to threaten us?" questioned Lord Marcus.

Though he tried to sound intimidating, the portly man's inquiry was more equivalent to a terrified squeak. He wasn't the only one trembling in fear. The power radiating from Merlin had filled the entire room and his eyes were flickering naturally with gold. The king and the Knights of the Round Table were the only ones undaunted by the display.

Merlin stared at the inquiring lord without flinching as he replied, "It is only a threat if you choose to harm my king, Lord Marcus."

Geoffrey of Monmouth stepped forward, though his expression wasn't one of hostility but curiosity. "Do you fully intent to use your magic only for the king?"

Merlin nodded. "I was born to serve Arthur and none other. My magic is his. He can command me to use it however he wishes and I will comply. But I will also use it as I see fit in order to protect him."

Arthur was touched as well as overawed by Merlin's unbelievable loyalty for him. It was even more humbling to hear him declare that he would do whatever Arthur asked him to. So much power… Arthur prayed he would never abuse it. It was a daunting thought and it truly terrified him. He wasn't the only one reeling over Merlin's public revelation. Several of the lords were sharing glances of surprise; clearly they had not been expecting this declaration of allegiance. From previous observation they knew that the servant was very devoted to the king -even when he was a prince- but they hadn't fully understood how deep his loyalty ran. Arthur found himself smirking; Merlin was making them question their prejudice.

"Changing the laws of magic is something I fully intent to do," Arthur said, gaining the attention of the room again. Merlin stepped back, allowing the king to retake the conversation with a nod of his head. Arthur returned the gesture. "Merlin has done more for this kingdom than any man I have ever met and it would be a crime to punish him when he is the reason Camelot still stands. I believe he is not alone in desiring to use magic for good. We must give those with magic a chance to prove themselves instead of judging them in ignorance. This matter, while important, we shall discuss in greater length in the council meeting taking place later this afternoon. Until then, Merlin has my full support and approval to use his magic openly and none are to harm him or else they will have to deal with me. Is that understood?"

The lords were not happy but each nodded with begrudging consent.

"Good. Now, let us return to the matter of knighting women. Before any of you interrupt, let me explain myself." Arthur stared pointedly at Lord Kriss who once again had opened his mouth to protest. The older man glared but held his silence. Arthur continued. "I have been exposed to several women capable of holding their own in battle. Some of you may remember that even I was beaten by Morgana's half sister, Morgause. Now, though I'm rather embarrassed by that defeat, it –along with other encounters where I have seen women fight – has brought to my attention that there are many capable of hand to hand combat. Women possess the same honor and characteristics the men of Camelot stand for. Why should they not be allowed to fight if they so wish?

"I will not be swayed from my decision and I _am_ going to bestow a knighthood to one today who has most certainly proven her worth through our most recent victory. She saved many lives, including those of my men, and she will be properly rewarded. I summoned all of you to declare that changes are happening in Camelot and to invite each of you to be witnesses of the beginning of them this day. I have a vision of uniting these lands and equality in _all_ things is one characteristic I desire for this kingdom. I value each of you and wish for you to stand by me in making Albion a reality. Now, let us proceed with the ceremony."

Without allowing any further protests, Arthur nodded to the guards who opened the doors, exposing Tristan and Isolde who stood in the full battle armor bestowed only to knights of the realm. They strode into the hall with confidence, the only hint of their nerves being in their eyes. Bright red capes billowed out behind them as their chainmail glistened in the sun coming into the room through the windows. Isolde's hair was pulled out of its braid, her golden locks freely falling about her face and down her back. Her armor fit her form and though slimmer than her partner, she looked just as formidable with a long sword and dagger hanging from her waist. Arthur made a note to send the blacksmith a gift in thanks for preparing the special armor so soon. Isolde was stunning.

Tristan looked every bit as noble as the rest of the men present and it wasn't just because he was wearing chainmail; the man carried himself with honor and grace as any noble would. He walked beside Isolde in perfect sync, his eyes silently calculating the men throughout the room. Arthur had the impression that he was weighing their merit, mentally sorting through who he could trust and who he should feel wary of. As a former smuggler, he'd practically perfected this practice and the king had a feeling the skill would come in handy in the future.

Smiling widely at the two, Arthur indicated for them to kneel before beginning the ceremony. It was quick and though several witnesses expressed disapproval in their countenance, none protested when the king knighted Isolde.

"Rise, Sir Tristan, knight of Camelot and rise, Lady Isolde, knight of Camelot," Arthur commanded and the two did as they were bid.

Merlin began to clap and the others followed suit, the Round Table Knights being the first to join him. Isolde and Tristan looked a little embarrassed but they accepted the applause and inclined their head to their sovereign. Arthur held up a hand after he felt an adequate amount of praise had been given and announced a feast to be held tomorrow before dismissing the court. Most of them left immediately but a curious few stayed to meet the newcomers.

"Well done, Arthur," Merlin muttered as he clasped his shoulder in approval.

Arthur smiled happily as he turned to his friend. "I should say the same to you. I fear you may have frightened the entire court with that earlier display."

Merlin smirked while folding his arms. "I've wanted to do that for _years."_

Arthur raised an amused brow. "And how does it feel?"

Merlin contemplated a moment, tapping his chin before grinning like a loon. "Satisfying," he declared with relish.

The king laughed, clapping the warlock on the shoulder before heading for the exit. He nodded briefly to Leon, trusting that his First Knight would make sure to find a place for Isolde and Tristan to settle within the castle. As he passed Elyan, a slight prickle of apprehension spiked through the king but he kept his expression cheerful as he left, Merlin trailing along behind him. The king didn't say a word all the way back to his room and by the time he'd arrived, his heart was doing summersaults.

In all the excitement of knighting Isolde, Arthur had completely forgotten one of the two rather frightening tasks still on his short To-Do list: asking Elyan for Guinevere's hand in marriage.

"Are you alright, Arthur?"

The king wandered over to his bed and fell face first into his pillows. Letting out a strangled groan, he rolled over and flopped an arm over his eyes to block out the light. "I'm the king of Camelot, Merlin."

"You're just barely realizing this? Wow and here I thought you said you were smart."

"Shut up, Merlin." The words were spoken without any annoyance and the warlock picked this up immediately.

"What does it matter if you're the king or not, Arthur?" Merlin sincerely asked, sitting down at the table and stealing an apple from the fruit bowl. A loud crunching noise was heard as Merlin munched on his stolen snack.

Arthur rubbed his eyes and sat up, resting his chin on his fists. "It matters because I should have no fear asking for anything."

Merlin's eyes brightened with understanding. "Ahhh… Gwen."

"Gwen," Arthur repeated with a nod. "Merlin… do you think…?"

"There's nothing to be nervous of, Arthur," he said before biting into his apple again. "Gwen loves you and Elyan will give you his blessing; I have no doubt about that. Besides, everyone has been waiting for the proposal for some time and the people support your choice. Heck, even the nobles don't seem to care anymore. The two of you have been openly courting for months. This was bound to happen. It's destiny after all."

"It may be destiny but that does _nothing_ to rid me of my nerves!" the king complained sullenly.

"The great King Arthur, afraid to ask for something he knows he's going to receive? I never thought I'd see the day."

Arthur picked up the nearest object – a pillow – and threw it at his manservant's head. Merlin ducked, allowing the projectile to skid harmlessly against the stone floor. Arthur scowled.

"I'm serious, Merlin! I've never had to do this before. Even when I proposed to Princess Elena, my father had made all the arrangements with Lord Godwyn. I just had to say the words. But this – I have to be the one to ask myself for my love's hand."

"Hmmm, it must be so strange having to do something yourself," Merlin mused.

" _Mer_ lin!"

The warlock's teasing face changed into one of solemnity. "Arthur, you're working yourself up over nothing. Relax and go talk to Elyan. It's not like you're going to face off against a dragon."

"If I were, you'd be with me," Arthur grumbled.

Merlin raised a curious brow. "Do you want me to be there when you talk to him?"

Embarrassed, Arthur snapped, "I don't need you to hold my hand, Merlin! I'm perfectly capable of talking to Elyan by myself."

"Riiiiight… then prove your courage by going to talk to him now," Merlin challenged.

"You know, I think I will!"

Arthur launched himself to his feet and stormed from the room, determined to prove to Merlin that he didn't need help. It wasn't until he was halfway to Elyan's room that he realized what the warlock had done. That conniving little _… he'd tricked him into doing this now!_

Arthur skidded to a stop in the middle of an empty hallway and scowled. He couldn't just turn around and scamper back to his chambers; Merlin was still there and he'd be sure to hold the act of cowardice over the king's head for years! He also couldn't put it off til later because the council meeting was going to be happening soon and Merlin would be there. The chance he would demand to know if he'd followed through would be high indeed. Hang it all! There was nothing for it _. Curse that no good warlock!_

"Sire?"

Arthur nearly leapt out of his skin. Twisting on his heel, he found the culprits of his current surprise were none other than Elyan, Percival, and Gwaine; Leon was probably still with Isolde and Tristan.

"Arthur, are you alright?" asked Percival in concern. "You look like you just saw a ghost."

"I'm fine," Arthur replied, attempting to calm his racing heart as he smoothed his features into what he hoped was a regal mask. "I was just lost in thought. Actually, I was looking for you, Elyan."

"Me, sire?"

Arthur nodded. "I wondered if I could speak with you a moment – alone."

The dark-skinned man looked surprised before nodding, "Alright."

The nervous king missed the growing smiles being exchanged between the other knights as well as the small amount of money Percival passed to a rather smug-looking Gwaine as he and Elyan wandered into the nearest empty guest room.

After closing the door, the king tried and failed to swallow his nerves. Heart hammering painfully in his chest, Arthur turned to face the former blacksmith with the small amount of courage he still possessed.

"Elyan," he began.

"Yes, sire?"

"I wanted – that is – I was wondering…" the words got stuck in Arthur's throat and, mortified, the king couldn't seem to find his voice.

With kindness, Elyan reached forward and rested a hand on Arthur's shoulder. "Arthur, I have a pretty good idea what you want to ask. There's no need to be nervous."

Arthur sighed, his embarrassment reaching its apex. "Look at me," he nervously chuckled, "here I am the king and I can't even form a simple question to ask."

"Simple questions can become quite difficult when we do not know the answer that will follow," Elyan smiled. "But you needn't be afraid, sire. Just ask your question."

Arthur swallowed past the lump in his throat and straightened his shoulders. He was the king! He could do this! Looking Elyan right in the eye, he took a deep breath and his courage grew.

"Elyan, I love your sister more than life itself and it would be the greatest honor if you would allow me to take her hand in marriage. I promise I will love, respect, and cherish her with all my heart. I have not nor will I ever love another and I will see to it that she is well taken care of for the rest of her days."

Elyan stared a moment and Arthur had to force himself not to shuffle his feet back and forth while waiting for his answer.

"Gwen is all I have left in this world, Arthur," he finally said. "She deserves the best; a man that will take care of her and love her as you have promised." He then began to smile. "You're a good man, Arthur. I know you'll keep your word. You and Gwen have my blessing."

The weight that lifted from the king's mind and heart was so great that Arthur thought for a moment he was floating off the ground. Pulling Elyan into a manly embrace, he patted his back once before the two stepped away. "Thank you, Elyan," he beamed.

"So, when are you going to propose?"

"Tonight," Arthur stated without hesitation.

"Tonight?" Elyan repeated in surprise.

Arthur was surprised himself; his heart had spoken before his brain. But he wasn't about to take back the answer. Why should he?

"I've waited a long time to ask for your sister's hand, Elyan," he admitted. "Now that I have properly courted her and been given your blessing, I plan to follow through with my heart's desire."

The knight grinned. "Well then, Godspeed, sire."

"Thank you," Arthur laughed.

The two shared one more manly embrace before heading for the door. Arthur paused before opening it.

"Elyan?"

"Sire?"

"Please keep this between us for now; I don't want word somehow getting back to Guinevere before I can propose."

"Don't worry, Arthur, I'll keep my mouth shut," he promised.

Arthur nodded gratefully and the two left the guest room, each turning in a different direction. It was only after he'd walked down three corridors that Arthur's euphoria kicked in.

He had permission to marry Guinevere.

And he was going to ask her to marry him _tonight!_

Overcome with giddiness and grinning like a schoolboy, Arthur practically skipped his way back to his chambers where he was sure to find Merlin. He pushed the door open only to discover a brush scrubbing the floor of its own accord and Merlin sitting at the table with his nose stuck in some rather dusty looking book.

"Arthur!" the warlock cried, the brush immediately ceasing its work on the floor.

Arthur raised an amused brow as he shut the door and walked over to the table to join his best friend. "There's no need to panic, Merlin. I'm perfectly fine with you using magic to do your chores."

Merlin stared.

Arthur frowned as he sat down. "What?"

"Sorry, it's just, I'm waiting for the part where you hit me over the head and tell me to do the floor myself."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Merlin, you're not my servant anymore."

"Yes I am!" Merlin protested. "You can't sack me. Not yet!"

"I'll sack you when I want to sack you," Arthur rejoined before sighing, "But I'm afraid you're right; that'll have to wait until later. For now we need to prepare for the council meeting – which happens to be in an hour… hmmm, that doesn't give us much time to get you cleaned up, does it?"

"Cleaned up?" Merlin yelped, his eyes widening with horror. "What do you mean?"

Arthur shook his head. Sometimes Merlin really could be an idiot. "If you hadn't noticed, you're practically dressed in rags, Merlin. Just exactly how old is that shirt you're wearing? It looks like it's going to fall apart the second the wind blows against it."

It was Merlin's turn to roll his eyes. "It's not that worn out," he defended with a pouty lip.

"We're getting you new clothes," Arthur decided, his tone brooking no argument. "But we can worry about that in a moment. I wanted to talk to you about something else first."

"Oh? What?" Merlin wondered, his tone still a little sour because of his clothing being insulted.

"I just spoke to Elyan," Arthur revealed.

Merlin's face lit up, all trace of poutiness forgotten. "Great! And how did it go?"

Arthur's grin was nearly splitting his face as he answered, "He gave me his blessing."

"I knew he would!" Merlin laughed, his own grin matching the king's. "I told you that you didn't have anything to worry about. Congratulations Arthur!"

"Don't congratulate me just yet. I may have Elyan's approval but I still have to ask Guinevere if she'll accept my proposal."

Merlin rolled his eyes, that goofy grin still in place. "She'll say yes, Arthur. Remember what I told you? It's your destiny to marry her."

"Yes but destiny can be changed depending on choices," Arthur mumbled doubtfully, speaking from his nerves.

"Arthur, stop being a cabbage head. Gwen will say yes and she will become your queen."

"How can you be so certain of everything?"

"Because I'm wiser than you," Merlin smirked. Arthur clipped him affectionately around the head. Laughing, the warlock rubbed the back of his skull and asked, "So, when are you going to propose?"

"Tonight, just after sunset; I'm planning on asking her at her house."

"Do you need any help creating a ' _romantic_ _scene'_?"

Arthur shook his head. "I want to do this myself – I owe her that – but you could help me by keeping her occupied. I think she's working on restoring some of the guest rooms today. If you could stay with her, lend a hand –"

"Leave it to me," Merlin grinned, standing up and heading to the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Arthur asked, standing as well.

The warlock looked back, confused. "To join Gwen?"

"Not now you're not! We need to get you ready for the council meeting."

Merlin groaned. "I'd hoped you would have forgotten about that."

"Why on earth would I forget about something that will bring torture to us both?" Arthur grinned, wrapping his arm around Merlin's shoulder and steering him from the room. "Come on, I'm sure the royal tailors have extra outfits lying around for you to try on."

Twenty minutes later Arthur sat on a stool in the corner of the royal seamstress's room, trying really hard not to laugh as Merlin stood with his arms spread out on either side of him, a rather exasperated expression on his face. Rachel, the Royal Seamstress, moved about him making adjustments to the vest and tunic she'd pulled from her stock of royal attire. The tunic was a rich blue color and the vest black leather with silver fastenings. For Merlin's sake, Rachel had even dug around until she'd found a scrap of red cloth left over from a Camelot cape and turned it into a neckerchief. She wasn't happy that the material wasn't stitched along the edges but for the sake of time, she'd have to make do with what she had to work with. She'd tucked it into the vest and threatened to flay Merlin alive if the man adjusted it in any way.

"I won't have you going and ruining a work of art," she'd said, slapping Merlin's hand away when he'd attempted to pull the neckerchief out of the vest.

Merlin looked at Arthur petulantly, a hint of hatred in his eyes. Arthur grinned wickedly and shook his head, silently communicating that _, no_ , he _wasn't_ going to stop Rachel from finishing her masterpiece. The king had been in Merlin's current position many times and had learned long ago to just let the woman work. Clothes were clothes and as long as they fit and suited his royal station, Arthur wasn't about to complain about what Rachel made for him. Merlin was just going to have to learn this too. The king would do his best to have the seamstress make outfits that included a neckerchief – he honestly couldn't see Merlin without one – but he couldn't make promises; Rachel could be really hard to compromise with sometimes, especially when she had a vision of what she wanted an outfit to look like.

After a moment, Rachel stepped back and looked Merlin up and down. "Honestly," she muttered, pursing her lips, "you squirm more than a child, Merlin! Do you know how many times I nearly pricked myself just now?"

"Sorry," Merlin grumbled, "I just don't see the point in all this. What's wrong with the clothes I had before?"

"Those rags should have been burned in the furnace a long time ago," Rachel snapped. "They were falling completely apart."

"They were not," Merlin denied.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Merlin, just shut up and accept the new clothes."

"Arthur, these are too nice!" he protested, leaping off the stool and waving his arms. "I can't wear something like this! It's meant for royalty!"

"Exactly," Arthur said, standing up.

Merlin's brow creased. "But I'm just a servant."

Arthur sighed, rolling his eyes. "You were never a servant, Merlin. I always thought of you as a friend, even if I rarely admitted it before. Besides, you said so yourself, you're the King of the Druids."

"I'm not their king," he objected. Arthur raised an eyebrow, causing Merlin's eyes to drop down to his new black boots. "Well, some of them may think of me that way," he mumbled.

Arthur stepped up to Merlin and put a hand on his shoulder. "Emrys stands on equal ground with the Once and Future King, Merlin. You are royalty and it's about time you were recognized as such. You look really good by the way. Now that Rachel has your exact measurements she'll be able to make a whole slew of outfits for you."

Merlin blushed red from the memory of the woman wrapping her tape measure over practically every inch of his body and Arthur shared a smirk with the seamstress. He'd long ago overcome embarrassment when it came to getting measured; it was part of being a king after all.

"But I don't need a lot of clothes," Merlin mumbled, fingering the fine hem of his new tunic. "Isn't this enough?"

"You can't live with just one outfit!" Rachel cried, scandalized. "Don't worry, your majesty, I'll have over twenty outfits made for him in a fortnight. I'll set to work on one right now so he has at least two different things to wear."

"That really isn't necessary," Merlin began.

"Thank you, Rachel," Arthur interrupted, pushing the warlock out the door. He added in a lower whisper, "Try to include a neckerchief in everything you make as a personal request from me. Also, don't burn his old things. I'm sure they have sentimental value and I'd hate for you to be on the receiving end of a vengeful warlock."

For the first time since the two appeared in her room, Rachel paled. "Is he really dangerous, sire?"

Arthur shook his head emphatically. "No! No, not at all! Where did you hear that?"

Rachel shrugged. "Rumors run rampant."

"Well they're false," Arthur declared protectively. "Merlin would never hurt anyone if he didn't have to."

The seamstress seemed reassured. "I always thought him kind and gentle. Thank you for the challenge, sire."

"Challenge?"

Rachel's grin grew wide as her eyes began to dance with inspiration. "Outfits that include neckerchiefs. It is a request I've never had before. Oh this will be great fun! Don't worry about Merlin's old things; I'll have one of my tailors take them back to his room."

"Thank you," Arthur smiled before leaving her to her work.

Merlin was standing awkwardly in the hall, fingering his new leather vest as if it were made of glass. Arthur had to admit Merlin looked stunning in his new wardrobe – a noble even – if one looked passed his uncomfortable fidgeting and his wilted shoulders.

Arthur punched him lightly in the arm. "Cheer up, Merlin. You look like you were just ripped apart from your security blanket."

Merlin scowled. "Very funny, Arthur."

His discomfort didn't go away. Arthur frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Merlin mumbled.

"Merlin."

The warlock sighed. "I just don't feel I deserve this. It's too nice. It's not me."

"Merlin, you deserve to have nice things and it wouldn't be fitting for my First Advisor and Court Sorcerer to wander around in rags. You're my brother and I want everyone to know that I don't see you as a servant but as an equal. Clothing makes a statement and even if what you wear from now on is of finer quality than anything you've ever possessed in your life, you can still wear it in such a way that you feel comfortable. If it helps, I told Rachel to make sure that every outfit she makes for you has a neckerchief."

Merlin looked up, surprised. "You did?"

Arthur chuckled. "Of course I did! That blasted neckwear is part of who you are. Besides, you'd look like a complete turnip head without one anyway."

Merlin's grin was huge and his eyes were sparkling. "That's my word," he complained, trying unsuccessfully to remove the smile from his face.

"It's your title too," Arthur grinned, shoving the warlock slightly. "Now come on, we have a council meeting to attend."

"Dollophead," Merlin muttered, following after the king.

A few corridors later, Merlin called out to him. "Arthur?"

"Yes Merlin?"

"Thank you."

Arthur studied him a minute before inclining his head, and continued walking. Merlin caught up a pace later and side by side they entered the council room. The lords had already gathered and there was an immediate reticence at the sight of the well dressed warlock. Merlin started walking towards his usual place in the background behind the Round Table until Arthur grabbed his arm.

"No, Merlin," he muttered. "You're place is here."

Gently, Arthur led his nervous servant to the chair reserved for the king's most trusted advisor: the chair to his right. Merlin shook his head.

"I shouldn't," he whispered, feeling the angry glares of several of the councilmen.

"Merlin, I trust you more than any man," Arthur said loudly so that none could mistake his words. "From the beginning, you were at my side and it is there that you belong. Now sit down."

Merlin swallowed painfully before perching on the edge of the chair, his back as straight as a sword, his hands positioned in his lap, his eyes on the table. Arthur inwardly groaned. Changing Merlin's habits from servant to royalty was going to take some time. He was going to have to be patient though; it was a lifetime of change after all. Patting Merlin's shoulder supportively, the king stepped up to his chair and looked around at the gathered councilmen and knights he'd asked to be in attendance. Gaius smiled at him approvingly and the pride in his eyes caused warmth to filter through Arthur's soul. The physician's opinion was one that Arthur cherished perhaps on an equal level as Merlin and Guinevere. Feeling his approval strengthened the king's resolve.

"Welcome," he greeted, nodding his head as his eyes swept over the men he trusted to advise him as they had his father. "I would like to start off this meeting by recognizing a new member of the council. Merlin, if you would please rise."

The servant started and looked at Arthur with wide eyes. He clearly hadn't been expecting to be the center of attention right at the start; too bad he was the elephant in the room that needed to be addressed. After another moment of panic, the warlock found his feet and heaved himself from the chair. He kept his eyes downcast on the table and his hands automatically went behind his back – the stance of a servant. Arthur nearly growled at the subservience; Merlin only showed such obedience when in meetings like this.

 _Come on, Merlin, where is that remarkable tenacity you possess when challenging kings_? He silently thought.

Arthur clapped Merlin on the shoulder and squeezed it gently. The servant glanced over at him and it was then that the king saw the vulnerability, the uncertainty, and the fear he'd seen shortly after Merlin turned back into a man after kissing Freya at the Lake of Avalon. This was the side of himself that he kept hidden… the part that craved acceptance but didn't wholly believe it would be given… the doubt he carried that any would look on him as more than a servant.

Arthur smiled at him reassuringly, hoping to get the message across that he supported and would be there for him every step of the way. Arthur wasn't alone in this way of thinking. Every knight in the room owed him their lives and had seen firsthand his loyalty to their king. They would stand by him. Arthur was also sure there were a few councilmen – besides Gaius – who were also beginning to warm up to the warlock. Well, it was time to see for sure who was on Merlin's side.

"Merlin has been serving me for almost a decade now," Arthur began. "Many of you have even referred to him as my second shadow. I want it known that this man has done more for me than any other I have ever met. He has earned my absolute trust. Gentlemen, the main topic of the council today will be the legalizing of magic. Now, before any of you voice your opinion and or protest, I want you to listen to what Merlin has done for this kingdom. Then I want you to consider my proposal of not only making Merlin First Advisor to the King but also naming him Court Sorcerer."

Merlin's jaw had dropped open. "You want me to _what?"_ he whispered, his voice hoarse.

"I want you to tell them what you've been up to since you arrived in Camelot," Arthur stated before quietly adding in barely a whisper, "Leave out the personal stuff though."

"This is unheard of!" Lord Kriss objected. "Sire, I must protest having a _peasant_ take on a position meant for nobility!"

Several others began to add complaints of their own but then Geoffrey of Monmouth, one of the most prominent men on the council, cleared his throat. "I would very much like to hear what Merlin has to say."

A stunned silence followed this declaration and several nobles shifted uncomfortably in their seats. They didn't want to anger a man that had more wealth and standing than they did even if their opinions were different.

"I second that," said Lord Nicholas.

"Let's hear him out," agreed Lord Ryder.

Arthur shared an appreciative glance with these men before turning to Merlin. "Go on then," he prompted.

Merlin swallowed. "Were to begin?" he muttered more to himself than to the others.

"Start with your arrival in Camelot," Arthur suggested as they both sat down in their respective chairs.

And so it began. Merlin did a good job sticking with the facts instead of the unnecessary details of everything that had happened from the time he'd set foot in Camelot. Stories of magical creatures, druids, dragons, witches, bandits, and magic filled the room for the next three hours. Merlin's voice was raw by the time he finished, his tone scratchy and hoarse as he concluded his tale with the most recent rescue of retaking Camelot from Morgana – Arthur had to help a little when 'Arlin's story' came into play but he left out the truth that Merlin had to kiss Freya in order to return to normal; that was too personal to share. Instead they opted for saying only a specific witch had the power to help Merlin return to normal. It wasn't entirely a lie.

Once finished with the story, the warlock stared at his lap, unable to meet the eyes of the men he was afraid would harshly judge him now that they knew all of his secrets – well, besides telling them that he was in love with Freya of course. He'd had to tell them of his relation to Balinor in order to explain why he was a dragonlord. Merlin couldn't help crying at certain points of his story though he tried really hard to keep a lid on his emotions. At those points, Arthur made sure to comfort him with a supporting squeeze on the shoulder.

While the servant was unable to look up at the councilmen, the king had no fear of doing so. He stared into the faces of men he'd known all his life. He wasn't surprised by the astonishment on their faces nor the slight suspicion some still held. It took a long time but finally the silence was broken by Lord Ryder.

"Do you really believe all that he has said and done, sire?" he asked.

Arthur immediately nodded. "I do."

"So you really believe you are this Once and Future King?" inquired Geoffrey of Monmouth.

Several of the nobles leaned forward in anticipation. Some held curiosity, others skepticism; the latter due to jealousy.

Arthur bowed his head. "Merlin has called me this many times and though I do not doubt him, I sometimes doubt myself. Uniting the kingdoms is a daunting task and alone I do not believe for a second that I would be able to accomplish such a feat. But with Merlin's support, I have faith that I can become who he believes me to be."

"You're being too hard on yourself, Arthur," Merlin chided, gently bumping his shoulder. "Where's the arrogant prat of a king I'm used to serving?"

Arthur, forgetting they were in council, flicked Merlin's ear and petulantly complained, "First you reprimand me for being prideful and then you demand me to show arrogance? I'm beginning to think you really are an idiot that has rare strokes of wisdom than the other way around."

"There are times when it's okay to boast, you cabbage head," Merlin rejoined, rubbing his ear, "it's not my fault you aren't smart enough to know how to differentiate those from moments of humility."

"Shut up, Merlin."

"You only say that when you know I'm right."

Arthur opened his mouth to argue when someone chuckled lightly. The two young men turned to find the entire council staring at them with amusement; it had been Geoffrey who had laughed. Similar expressions of embarrassment were displayed by both king and warlock as Merlin fiddled with his new tunic sleeve and Arthur coughed into his hand.

"Are you two always like this?" asked Lord Darius curiously.

"Unfortunately," Gaius answered before the others could.

"They behave like my sons," Lord Nicolas muttered to Lord Ryder who nodded with a stifled chortle into his fist.

Arthur was absolutely mortified. He'd behaved like a fool in front of his council all thanks to Merlin. "Perhaps I shouldn't make you my First Advisor, Merlin," he grumbled under his breath, "if you're going to humiliate me every time we meet for council."

"You do a pretty good job of that on your own without my help," Merlin quipped back.

"Enough of this!" the king snapped impatiently, "let's return to my earlier proposal before this idiot started insulting me."

"Oi! You're the one who wanted me to be honest!" Merlin complained.

"Are you sure you want this man as your First Advisor, sire?" asked Lord Geoffrey after sharing an amused glance with Gaius.

Arthur sighed before allowing a resigned smile to climb his cheeks. "There's no one else that I would rather have by my side, Geoffrey."

"But you clearly question his intelligence," Lord Nicolas pointed out.

"Only when I find it necessary," Arthur grinned, "but when the need arises, Merlin's advice never fails me. He's always there when I need him."

Lord Kriss had a sour expression on his face as he eyed the king's right-hand man. "Though I cannot ignore the feats he has accomplished, I am sure I'm not the only one hesitant about having a sorcerer in our court, sire."

"Perhaps you should hold a trial period where you can observe Merlin and discover his intentions for yourselves?" Leon suggested. He and the other knights had been silent through the meeting but now seemed the time to make their voices heard.

"You support this Sir Leon?" asked Lord Kriss in surprise.

"I do," Leon replied with conviction. "I have known Arthur all his life and I can say with all the certainty of my soul that the man and king he has become is largely due to his relationship with Merlin. I have never known the servant to betray him and he holds a loyalty for Arthur that would shame the best of the knights, my own included."

"Hear hear," Gwaine declared, his cry seconded by Bedivere, Kay, Elyan, and Percival.

"Merlin has been my ward since his arrival in Camelot," Gaius spoke up, deciding to give his own two cents. "The first thing he did was save my life with magic. I was not about to cast him to the flames when I owed him a life debt. I witnessed firsthand the hardships he has shared with you today and I can say with conviction that his only interest is serving Arthur and keeping him safe."

"I would never betray my king," Merlin added emphatically. "If it does not please the council for me to be in such a position as Advisor then I will gladly stay as Arthur's manservant. All I ask is to remain at his side."

This surprised the nobles who had originally been against him. "You would give up the chance to become a nobleman?" asked Lord Kriss, bewildered.

"Personal titles mean nothing to me," Merlin answered with a shrug. "I only want to serve my king. I do not seek wealth or power. I do not seek recognition or praise. I simply desire to do what I was born to do."

Lord Kriss glanced at Lords Victor and Fairhurst, his two accomplices. The older gentlemen all seemed to reach the same conclusion and the tense muscles in Arthur's shoulders relaxed as a wave of acceptance swept throughout the room.

"Merlin Emrys," said Lord Kriss with finality, "I begrudgingly admit that I am willing to submit to the proposal Sir Leon has suggested."

"As am I," said Lord Fairhurst.

The other councilmen gave their vote as well, all in support of giving Merlin a chance to prove himself. When Lord Geoffrey spoke up, his word was similar to that of Gaius: he had no problems with Merlin and didn't feel a trial run would be necessary but was willing to agree to the proposal if it would end with positive results.

When it came to the knights, Leon spoke for the others. "You know where we stand, sire," he said with a smile. "We feel that Merlin should be given a chance."

Arthur leaned back in his chair, observing his men. It wasn't the most ideal proposal but it was better than the men demanding Merlin be banished or burned at the stake.

"And what of magic?" he asked, eyeing his councilmen.

Lord Victor spoke before the others. "One man cannot be excused from the laws, sire. Therefore, if we are to observe and eventually accept this man as your Advisor and Court Sorcerer" – he said the latter title with hesitation – "then the law must be changed."

"Agreed," said Lord Darius with a nod.

"It is logical, I suppose," Lord Kriss muttered begrudgingly.

Arthur turned to Merlin. "How do you think we should proceed with this then?"

Merlin had been remarkably silent and the king finally noticed just how humbled he appeared to be that these men were discussing something he'd been secretly longing for for many years. The councilmen and knights waited with anticipation, wondering how the powerful warlock was going to respond.

"I think this is an opportunity to expose the true nature of magic," Merlin answered after a moment of deliberation. "The people need to see that it is not something to be feared." He then displayed a grin as he suggested, "Perhaps a tournament should be held."

Arthur perked up to this immediately. "A tournament of magic?"

Excitement stole through him at the very idea.

Merlin nodded. "It would be an excellent way to prove to sorcerers your views concerning magic and expose the people to the changes you seek for the kingdom."

"But what about the people's safety?" Lord Ryder argued in concern. "The kingdom has been attacked frequently by magic for the past twenty years and now we want to simply invite those who can use it through our front door?"

"How else would we prove to them that magic is no longer going to be banned in Camelot?" Merlin asked with a raised brow. "This will benefit everyone."

"But it could also leave us vulnerable to attack by vengeful sorcerers," said Lord Kriss.

"You forget, my lords, that Merlin is the most powerful warlock to ever walk the earth," pointed out Arthur. He was liking the idea of a magical tournament every passing second. "He is more than capable of stopping any rogue from overtaking the kingdom."

"I can draw up rules that must be followed in order for people to participate as well as set up protective enchantments that will ensure the safety of those who come to watch the battles," Merlin offered. "If needed, there are also spells that I can use to temporarily bind a person's magic – should any of them reveal a darker purpose behind their participation, of course."

"Would you be participating then since you are a sorcerer?" asked Geoffrey curiously.

Merlin's cheeks tinged pink as he fiddled with his sleeve again. "I believe it wouldn't be a fair fight. It would probably be best if I observed the proceedings rather than participate in them."

"We'll also need a trained eye to make sure there isn't any foul play in the ring and, as our resident warlock, Merlin is best suited for the job," Gaius added.

"I've never seen a magical tournament," said Kay.

Gwaine grinned. "Oh, they're remarkable to watch, mate."

"You've been to one?" Arthur asked curiously while several of the councilmen looked to Gwaine in surprise.

The roguish knight nodded, his grin growing wider as his eyes sparkled. "It's like nothing I've ever seen. I don't remember all the rules but I can tell you what I do remember –how they kept things in control and what not."

"Enlighten us," Arthur encouraged, fascinated that such a tournament had been held before.

"Very well," Gwaine smiled, happily obliging.

He then proceeded to go into detail of everything he'd experienced and seen during what became known as an illegal tournament held in Caerleon's lands. The winner was rewarded a thousand gold coins and they were kept in line with some kind of magical bracelet that prohibited spellwork outside of the arena. Arthur didn't like the idea of restricting people from their magic; he didn't want to make the sorcerers feel like prisoners. He did like some of the rules Gwaine shared and from the look on his face, Merlin did too.

Leaning back in his chair, Arthur contemplated all of this for a while before coming to a decision. The lords and knights were looking expectantly at him when he finally raised his gaze.

"We will have a magical tournament," he announced. "But before we make it known to the people Merlin will draw up the rules and regulations, suggest a reward that can be given to those who participate, and provide a way to protect the city from those with ill intentions by the next council meeting. It will be held in two days. Are we agreed?" There was a series of nods from around the room. "Very well then. Let us adjourn until two days hence. Good day, gentlemen."

Arthur stood and the others followed suit. The men slowly filed from the room after paying him their respects, a few also sending Merlin a curious glance as they went. Finally only Gaius, the knights, Merlin, and the king remained. Arthur dropped his more dignified persona and let his pent up stress release from his body in a heavy sigh. Falling back into his chair, he stretched, allowing his limbs to pull taut for a few seconds before blissfully releasing them.

"Well, that went well," Gwaine opined with a grin.

"It went better than expected," Gaius admitted. "I think a magical tournament is a great idea."

"As long as I don't mess up with the rules," Merlin muttered worriedly. "How could you entrust all of this to me, Arthur?"

"I thought that was obvious," Arthur said with a raised brow. "You're the magic expert so why shouldn't you be the one responsible?"

"You just don't want to do all the work yourself!" Merlin complained.

Arthur's grin was wide. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

The knights and Gaius chuckled while Merlin groaned. "You're impossible," he grumbled.

Arthur rested a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. "You'll be fine, Merlin."

"Arthur, maybe you've forgotten due to that thick skull of yours, but the success of this tournament will determine whether or not the council accepts me and magic! They'll be watching everything I do! One mess up and it could all be over. They'll force you to banish or worse _execute me_ if that happens!"

"Merlin stop being such a girl," Arthur retorted.

Of course he hadn't forgotten the true reason behind this tournament! He wasn't a fool. But he couldn't let Merlin see how fearful he really was; right now he needed to be the strong one.

"I have all faith in you," he said confidently. "Besides, we'll help you in any way we can. I'm sure Gaius and Alator can give some great advice magic-wise and when it comes to planning tournaments I know just about everything that needs to be involved in them."

"And we've participated in enough of them to know how things go," Leon added.

"You're not alone in this, mate," Gwaine grinned, squeezing Merlin's shoulder. "We'll help you every step of the way."

Merlin glanced at all of them gratefully and Arthur noticed that though he was still scared, his countenance was beginning to take on a new air of confidence. "Thank you," he inclined his head to them. "I would appreciate all the help I can get."

"Right, then how about we get started?" Gwaine said happily.

"Just a moment," Arthur called, stopping the knight from bodily dragging his unofficial advisor from the room.

"What is it, Arthur?" asked Gwaine impatiently. "Merlin's got a lot of researching to do! You can't expect him to serve you too. Get another manservant for the next two days!"

"That's not what I was going to say," Arthur snapped, annoyed. "Merlin has something _else_ he needs to do for the rest of the day."

"I do?"

Arthur glared at him. Surely he hadn't forgotten? Under the king's intense stare the warlock's confusion transformed into sudden enlightenment. _"Oh_ , right," he muttered. "Sorry Gwaine but tournament preparations will have to wait."

"What? But–"

"Don't worry, Gwaine, you can help Merlin all you want tomorrow," Arthur assured, relieved that he didn't have to spell out Merlin's evening duty in front of the others. He didn't need them knowing that the warlock was supposed to keep a certain maid occupied for the next two hours.

"It's fine, Gwaine," Merlin said with a smile. "I'll catch up with you later."

Gwaine's brow was furrowed and he shot a suspicious look between the king and warlock before shrugging his shoulders in defeat. "Fine, I'll just head down to the tavern I guess. Any of you blokes want to join me?"

"I suppose someone has to come to make sure you get home tonight," Percival volunteered.

Elyan and Leon shook their heads while Arthur rolled his eyes. "Don't stay out too late."

"Don't worry, princess, we'll be home before midnight," Gwaine called cheerfully over his shoulder as he and Percival left the room.

"Not bloody likely," Elyan muttered, the others silently agreeing with him.

[][][]

Arthur took a step back, surveying his work with a proud eye. He'd painstakingly placed white candles throughout the entirety of Guinevere's home, clumping them together in small bunches on every surface he could find. Nodding happily to himself, the king glanced out the window. It was just after sunset, twilight starting to settle in. Grabbing the cloak he'd tossed to the ground two hours ago, Arthur donned his hood before making his way back towards the castle. There were few people about, most of them rushing back to their homes before the curfew set in. The evening patrols had already been instructed to expect him wandering about and to not approach unless otherwise directed; he didn't want Guinevere to know where he was taking her and the whole surprise would be ruined if his guards demanded 'who goes there' towards them in the middle of the night.

He wanted this night to be perfect.

Reaching the courtyard, Arthur dropped his hood and headed for his chambers to change into something comfortable. Tonight he didn't want to be a king or a noble. Tonight he was simply Arthur, a man asking the woman he loved for her hand in marriage. It took a surprisingly short amount of time to choose what to wear. He ended up in a simple white tunic, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the front open in a steep V shape exposing his chest. His trousers were dark brown as was his belt and his feet were covered in a pair of comfortable boots. Taking a large handkerchief, the king rested in against the back of his neck over his shoulders before staring at himself in the mirror. Finding his appearance acceptable, Arthur nodded to his reflection and left to find Merlin and hopefully his future bride.

It wasn't difficult to happen upon the two of them; they were in the next wing of the castle straightening a bed, Merlin chattering away about some previous adventure involving magic. Arthur peered around the open door, hoping to catch Merlin's eye before Guinevere could notice him. Thankfully she was busy gathering up the extra sheets while Merlin was throwing the pillows towards the headboard. The warlock was positioned perfectly towards the door. Now if only the idiot would _look up!_

As if he heard the unspoken command, Merlin's unique blue eyes glanced upward and noticed Arthur. The king jerked his head, silently motioning for him to leave the room. Merlin nodded minutely before returning to the pillows. Arthur slipped back against the wall outside the door so he wouldn't be seen, his hearing easily picking up the conversation within.

"Hey, Gwen? I hate to leave you to finish but I need to go attend to Arthur. I'm sure if I don't the prat will mistake the back of his night tunic for the front again."

Arthur scowled while Guinevere's pleasant giggle rang throughout the room. _He's going to pay for that,_ the king inwardly vowed.

"You know, sometimes I think you judge him too harshly, Merlin," Guinevere gently chided. Arthur felt a surge of affection for her travel through his heart and a smile tugged at his lips.

"You're just biased," Merlin replied, a grin in his voice.

There was a gentle slap of flesh striking flesh and Arthur could only assume that Guinevere had just playfully swatted Merlin's arm. "Oh, you!" she muttered. "Go on, then. I can finish things here."

"Alright," Merlin chuckled. "Have a good night, Gwen. I'll see you in the morning."

"Thanks for your help earlier; I don't think I would have finished tonight without it."

"A little magic can work wonders."

"I'll say," she chuckled. "Goodnight, Merlin."

"Goodnight, Gwen."

Footsteps drew near and Arthur moved away from the wall just as Merlin appeared in the hallway. Motioning for him to follow, Arthur walked several paces away until he was sure they wouldn't be overheard.

"Is everything ready?" Merlin asked quietly.

"For the most part," Arthur answered. "I didn't light the candles because I didn't want to leave them unattended. Could you run down to her house and do that?"

"Sure."

"I want you to light them with magic when you see us coming. I've already instructed the evening patrols that you and I were not to be disturbed if they should see us."

"Right." Merlin started walking away but then he paused. "You remembered the ring, right?"

"Of course I–" But the king paused, quietly cursing as he realized it wasn't in his pocket. Drat! He'd left it on his dresser. He knew he'd been forgetting something! "It's back in my chambers," he reluctantly confessed.

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Only you would forget the ring on the night you're going to propose. Let me guess, you were too busy deciding what to wear?"

"Shut up, Merlin! Can you run and get it?"

The warlock smirked. With a flash of his eyes, he stood there grinning.

Arthur scowled. "Merlin, what are you –"

"Wait for it, clotpole," he interrupted, holding up a hand. "Three… two… one…"

A soft whooshing sound was heard before a small speck of metal zoomed around the corner, coming to a stop in midair a foot in front of the king. Arthur snatched the floating ring from the air and raised an amused eyebrow at his servant.

"Handy," he commented.

"I thought you'd say that," Merlin grinned.

"Right, go on then!" Arthur muttered, waving his hand in a shooing manner. "And Merlin? Keep yourself hidden."

"Don't worry, I won't get in the way," he promised with a wink. Then he surprised the king by taking his shoulder and squeezing it. "It'll be fine, Arthur. Don't let your nerves eat away your courage. Just think of Gwen and what she means to you."

The king frowned. How was it possible that Merlin could read him so well all the time? It wasn't fair. Taking a deep breath, he nodded. Merlin smiled before slipping around the corner, heading for Guinevere's house. Arthur took his brother's advice to heart and started thinking solely about Guinevere. Memories cascaded through his mind bringing with them wonderful feelings of happiness, affection, and love.

Without thinking, the king walked slowly to the guest room and stopped in the doorway. Guinevere's back was to him, her worn hands smoothing out the last wrinkles on the bed she worked over. She wore a pale blue dress with white sleeves. Two thin brown belts wrapped around her lovely waist and her brown hair flowed freely down her back. She was beautiful.

Using all of his skills as a hunter, Arthur silently stepped into the room and made his way towards her. He gently cupped his hands over her eyes and she lightly gasped, freezing immediately in place.

"Don't be alarmed," he whispered tenderly in her ear. "Keep your eyes closed and stand still."

Recognizing his voice, Guinevere instantly relaxed and did as she was bid. Arthur's heart swelled with affection as he marveled over her complete trust and faith in him. He knew he had chosen wisely for was it not right to have a companion who trusted in such a way as this? To place your life and safety explicitly in the hands of another; it was a true test of honorable character.

Removing the stripe of clothe from around his neck, the king placed it over Guinevere's eyes and proceeded to tie the fabric snuggly against the back of her head. When finished, he took her shoulders and slowly spun her around, finding her smiling. Unable to resist, he bent down and brushed his lips against hers.

"Come with me," he muttered, taking her hand.

"Alright," she replied, her hold tightening over his as she shuffled blindly forward.

It was slow going but Arthur didn't mind the pace since he was able to keep his hand in Guinevere's the whole time, except the occasions when he had to grab her waist before she tripped down a set of stairs. She clung to him the most at these points, both of them letting out a light peel of laughter in the process. They passed only a handful of servants and all those who did come across them simply bowed their head and continued on with a smile on their lips.

The cool night was pleasant against their skin as the king and maid finally reached the bottom of the courtyard steps and made their way across the cobbled path to the gate. Arthur nodded silently to the posted sentries before heading out into the town. It took them ten minutes to reach Guinevere's house. Arthur saw Merlin in the distance before the warlock slipped inside. The king prayed he had the sense to light the candles and then hide somewhere. Most might think it an invasion of privacy but Arthur needed to feel that Merlin was near – like he always was when the king had to put his courage to the test.

All too soon, the wooden door belonging to Guinevere's house stood before the couple. This was it. The moment Arthur had been fantasizing over for years. Never would he have thought his dreams were about to come true. How many times had he longed to have this particular moment with Guinevere? She had become his precious angel, a guiding light, and a confidant to him in such a short amount of time. How had he not seen her before when she had been in the castle for years as Morgana's maid?

The answer was simple: he had not seen her because he had been too wrapped up in his own arrogance to do so. Once again the king had Merlin to thank. The servant had opened his eyes and encouraged him to pursue his attraction and later love for Guinevere when others would have done the exact opposite. If it hadn't been for Merlin, this moment wouldn't be happening; Arthur would have resigned himself to an arranged marriage by his father long ago and his life would have been forever miserable. But this moment _was_ happening and he was about to ask the woman he loved to become one with him. It was all thanks to that lovable idiot. He'd have to make sure to give Merlin a substantial raise when this was over.

Smirking over this thought, Arthur gently pushed the door open and led Guinevere inside, holding her shoulder to stop her just within the house as he shut the door behind them. Merlin was nowhere to be seen, thank goodness, and he'd done his job perfectly in magically lighting the vast amount of candles scattered throughout the room. Every surface was bathed in a soft golden glow as Arthur removed the blindfold and tossed the fabric onto the floor; Merlin could pick it up later.

Guinevere let out a soft gasp of surprise as she allowed the king to steer her over to the bench next to her wooden table. Glancing around in wonder, she sat down and Arthur moved to stand in front of her before kneeling at her feet. Taking her hands in his, the king took a moment to bask in the glow of her smile, the warmth of her eyes, and the tenderness of her touch. His soul filled with love and he physically began to ache with longing for her.

"Guinevere," he began, his voice husky and low, "will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

His gaze never left hers, his heart pounding somewhere in his throat, as he waited without breathing for her reply. Guinevere stared at him -unmoving for what felt like an eternity- and then, to his confusion, she threw her arms tightly around his neck and let out a small sob.

Brows drawn in befuddlement, Arthur hesitantly lifted his hand to hover over her back. "Is that a yes?"

Guinevere gasped and pulled back, "Oh, sorry, yes. Yes. _Yes!"_

Arthur beamed as he chuckled to hide his sigh of relief. Guinevere chuckled back. Filled with joy, Arthur schooled his open grin to a happy smile as he pulled the ring from his pocket and slipped it over her finger. His heart bursting with happiness, he leaned forward and kissed her. Guinevere slipped from the bench to get closer, her knees bumping against the side of his as their hands entwined between them.

Arthur made a small trail of kisses from her lips to her left ear. Reaching the lobe, he kissed it gently before whispering, "My queen."

He softly kissed her ear one more time before pulling away in search of her eyes. Guinevere's cheeks were flushed, her gaze filled with desire, and her smile radiating with love only for him. She reached forward, resting her hand against his neck while the pad of her thumb rubbed tenderly against his jaw line.

"My king," she whispered before leaning forward to kiss him again.

Arthur's head was in the clouds and for a while he became lost in the emotions of ecstasy and elation as he repeatedly kissed the woman that he loved. It took every ounce of strength he had left to pull away and rest his hands from going any lower than they already had down her back. Now was not the time to give in to desire. Not only was he the king but he was also a man of honor and the last thing he would do is shame his Guinevere.

"I love you so much," he whispered, kissing her forehead.

"I love you too," she tenderly muttered.

Arthur smiled at her, clasping his hands in hers. "The wedding will take place as soon as possible, unless you need more time?"

"Oh, no, no, sooner is better," she said eagerly.

Arthur chuckled, pleased. "Then sooner it is! There's much to be done but I image we'll be able to make arrangements in no time. Does this please you?"

Guinevere's smile was soft as she replied, "As long as I get to be with you, Arthur, I'll wait forever were it required."

Arthur's smile was large and he couldn't stop himself from kissing her again. One kiss became many and all too soon they had to pull away before anymore could be discovered about the other. "Let's hope it won't be forever," Arthur breathed as he rested his forehead against hers. "I don't think I can wait that long."

Guinevere chuckled before pulling fully away and standing up. Arthur followed her example, sad to admit that he was the one unwilling to leave their current position. Never before had he been so spellbound by a woman – but this didn't bother him; Guinevere could keep him under her spell for the end of time as far as he was concerned.

"I should probably go," he muttered sheepishly while rubbing the back of his neck.

"That might be a very good idea," she agreed reluctantly.

Arthur stepped closer and she unconsciously did the same. Taking her hands, he bent down and kissed them. "Good night, my Guinevere," he whispered before kissing her lips one last time.

"Good night, my Arthur," she replied, her eyes warm.

Arthur, feeling as if he were walking through a dream, made it to the door before glancing back in a daze. Good gracious, she was the most gorgeous creature he had ever laid eyes on. And she had agreed to become his. He was the luckiest king in the world. Grinning like a fool, he left the house, stepping out into the chilled night. He stood staring into space for a while before letting out a contented sigh.

Guinevere had agreed to marry him.

The king had to stop himself from shouting for joy as he walked back to the citadel. He was glad he hadn't because a moment later he was joined by a rather smug-looking warlock.

Merlin raised a curious brow. "Did you just jump?"

"What? Of course not!" Arthur denied. So the idiot had startled him; Merlin didn't need to know that.

Merlin grinned. "You totally did."

The king lightly shoved him. "Shut up, _Mer_ lin."

The warlock chuckled. The two walked in companionable silence for a while before Merlin lightly nudged the king. "So… I left after the two of you started snogging" – he dodged as Arthur tried to hit him – "but I think it's appropriate for me to be the first to say: congratulations."

Arthur decided to let the 'snogging' comment go. A large grin spread across his face. "Thank you, Merlin."

The warlock's grin matched his. "Anytime, Arthur. Anytime."

* * *

 **I loved how BBC did the original proposal scene between Arthur and Gwen so I decided to keep it. Are you guys excited for the magical tournament? :D And how about the various changes occurring in Camelot? Leave a review and let me know! I'll see you all in five days.**


	14. Chapter 14

**My life has been super crazy but never fear, dear fans, I will continue to strive towards keeping my update schedule. Don't worry; if I'm wearing myself out, I'll take a breather or two. Thank you all so very much for your reviews. They are rays of sunshine to my day!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin**

* * *

14: An Invitation

Arthur smirked with silent amusement at the dumbfounded expression on Merlin's face.

"You can't be serious," he muttered hoarsely.

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

Merlin shook his head and gestured to the large chamber they stood in. "This is too much, Arthur. Way too much! I mean, what am I going to do with all of this space? The few possessions I have wouldn't even fill that cabinet!" He pointed to the rather handsome dresser resting against the wall.

Arthur's grin widened. "I'm sure that'll change once we've lifted the ban on magic; after all, I'm giving you full access to the vaults where my father kept every magical item he could get his hands on."

Merlin's mouth opened and closed a few times before he finally found his voice. "You're joking."

Arthur reached over and wrapped his arm around Merlin, steering him over to the nearest chair – a masterful piece of work sitting behind a lovely cherrywood desk. The warlock sat without protest, a sign that he most definitely was overwhelmed. Arthur allowed him some time to process the gift he'd just been given. To the king, giving someone their own chambers didn't seem that monumental but when he stood back and looked at it from Merlin's perspective, it was easy to see why the warlock was struggling. This living space was larger than Merlin's house back in Ealdor and ten times the size of his cupboard of a room in Gaius's chambers. The poor idiot had never had anything so grand. No wonder he was having difficulty being his usual snarky self.

Arthur could rib him for behaving like a fool or he could simply continue to act as if this was no big deal. He decided on the latter; he didn't want Merlin to somehow invent an impression that Arthur felt obligated to give him these things.

Walking over to the closet, Arthur opened the double doors and smiled. Rachel had certainly taken his challenge to heart. The woman had already made three outfits – all of them sporting neckerchiefs.

"Looks like you have more clothes too," he commented, glancing over his shoulder.

Merlin's head whipped up so fast that Arthur was sure it cracked a couple times. "More clothes?" he cried, distressed. "I told her I didn't want any!"

"Stop feeling like you don't deserve nice things, Merlin," Arthur ordered cheerfully as he held up a pair of shiny brown boots. "Look, another pair made out of the finest leather Camelot has to offer. There's three more pairs in here and enough socks to last you 'til spring. Oh, and a winter cloak!"

"Now you're just provoking me," Merlin grumbled, pushing himself away from the chair to take a look at the clothes Arthur was purposefully pointing out.

"Come on, Merlin, stop being such a spoiled sport," Arthur chided while shaking the warlock's shoulders. "I thought you'd be excited to have other things to wear."

"What's wrong with what I have on?" Merlin grumbled, fingering the black vest he had worn yesterday.

"You can't wear the same thing twice now that we're trying to make you a nobleman, Merlin," Arthur said as he turned back to the closet and picked out a nice red and brown outfit. "Ahhh, look at this one! Red tunic, brown jacket, and – ah-ha! – a blue neckerchief to match. It looks just like what you used to wear, only nicer."

Merlin tried to hide the pleasure in his eyes at seeing the familiar clothing combination even if the fabrics were ten times better in quality than his former peasant wear. "I'm not even a nobleman yet, Arthur," he protested as he took the clothes and allowed Arthur to nudge him behind the partition to change.

"Well you're going to be as soon as this tournament is over," the king called cheerfully.

Merlin groaned and the dull 'thunk' that accompanied it made Arthur suspect he'd hit his head against the changing screen. "The tournament… I haven't even _started_ looking into things, Arthur! I only have today and tomorrow to come up with everything! What am I going to do?"

"First, you're going to breathe," Arthur said. He'd expected this; that was why he'd given Merlin his new chambers now – so the warlock would have some place to think.

"I _am_ breathing!" Merlin retorted as he came out from behind the partition.

Arthur nodded in approval of what he saw. The brown leather jacket Merlin wore had small designs of golden thread laced into the collar and cuffs, matching the brown boots now on his feet. The blue neckerchief had embroidered patterns in the same color, distinct only when they caught on the light. Besides Merlin's sour face, the warlock looked every inch a nobleman in the somewhat familiar but royal garb.

"Something tells me this is going to be your favorite outfit," he smirked.

"Arthur, please," Merlin cried, exasperated, "while you're acting like a girl and dressing me up like a doll, I'm busy trying to come up with a way to impress the council so they'll approve of magic!"

Arthur smacked Merlin upside the head for the girl insult before striding over to the table and pointing out a small mountain of sealed documents and a stack of books. "In the process of drooling all over yourself earlier, you failed to notice my other gift to you."

"What are these?" Merlin asked as he came over to curiously finger the scrolls.

"Every scroll, book, and spare bit of parchment Geoffrey had in his library that you'll need," Arthur revealed, picking up two official documents signed with several signatures at the bottom. "This one is the declaration my father made when he banned magic from the land. And this one contains the laws effective when magic was legal before the Purge."

Merlin studied the parchments with wide eyes, his fingers gently fingering the leaflets. "Arthur," he muttered in gratitude, "I was going to get these myself."

Arthur shrugged. "I figured I'd lend you a hand. I have another hour before I meet with the council to share with them the good news about Guinevere and me. Speaking of which, normally a tourney is held in celebration of a royal wedding. I wondered if maybe we could combine the magical tournament with the wedding announcement."

Merlin raised a critical brow. "You want to celebrate the announcement of your engagement to Gwen with a magical tournament?"

"Didn't I just say that? Yes, Merlin. What do you think?"

Merlin was silent for some time before he shrugged. "It sounds like more work for me – guess I should be used to it, seeing as you always burden me with too many tasks to be completed by a normal person on any given day."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"What? You really don't think the usual workload I have to put up with–"

"Not that, Merlin," Arthur interrupted. "What did you mean about having _more_ work?"

Merlin sent him a vexed glare. "Arthur, you have the potential to be intelligent but sometimes I fear you will never reach it."

"Hey!" Arthur complained.

"Think really hard about what's happened in the past when magic has come to Camelot," Merlin prompted.

The king frowned. "What has this got to do with–"

"Almost every magical being that has entered the city in the last twenty some odd years has tried to kill you in some way, Arthur," Merlin sighed, exasperated. "Opening up the kingdom for a magic tournament is a good idea but part of me is experiencing severe anxiety attacks just thinking about so many unknown sorcerers coming here. I've spent years protecting you and I fear I may have to do so again. Now you want to announce Gwen as your wife to be – she'll become another target I have to protect. But I can't be in two places at once. I can't referee the sorcerers during battles and keep an eye on them and you _and_ Gwen at all times. What if one of them tries to attack you or her during the middle of the night and I'm not there to stop it? The council would never allow me to stay – they'd chase me from the city with torches and pitchforks themselves!"

"Merlin, calm down!" Arthur consoled for the warlock had a crazed look in his eye as he ran his hands repeatedly through his dark locks. The king stood and grabbed his shoulders to console him. "You know what your problem is, Merlin?"

"What?"

"You are used to having to do this alone," Arthur said bluntly, "a fact I still marvel at, to be honest. But, my friend, your secret is no longer yours alone to carry. In fact, it's not even a secret anymore. You have my permission to use magic openly and that also includes delegating your tasks with those whom you trust. Have you ever considered asking Alator or the druids for aid? And let's not forget that you have the power to control magical beasts that strike fear into the heart of any man. Stop shouldering everything yourself and ask for help! If I tried to rule Camelot completely on my own, I would go insane. Why do you think I have advisors?"

He gently shook Merlin back and forth, eliciting a small smile from the warlock.

Merlin sighed. "You're right. Sorry – it's force of habit."

Arthur smiled. "I know but it's one I'm determined to break. Now, here's what I suggest. Since it's up to you to referee the matches, you can have Alator or some other magical person who is not participating keep an eye on Guinevere. You can also ask a few of them to help in patrolling the corridors where the tournament participants will stay. Also, I'm sure if we placed Kilgharrah in the courtyard many who even attempt to do something foolish would think otherwise."

Merlin frowned. "Did you blatantly leave yourself out of that plan?"

"I don't need as much protection as Guinevere does. Besides, I have Excalibur."

"Excalibur?"

Arthur patted his hip where the sword from the stone rested under his belt. Merlin raised an amused eyebrow.

"You named it?"

Arthur scowled. "All great swords are given titles, Merlin. If you were well versed in history you'd know that."

The warlock snickered. "I think you're just trying to come up with an excuse as to why you named an inanimate object like a child does a toy."

"It is _tradition!"_ Arthur snapped in frustration. "Oh, forget it! You're just too idiotic to comprehend the importance of a named blade!"

"Whatever you say, _sire,_ " Merlin mocked, grinning.

"Oh, shut up!" the king grumbled. "Anyway, I'm perfectly fine taking care of myself!"

"Which is why I'm assigning Aithusa to stay by your side at all times during this event," Merlin stated, his grin disappearing.

"What?!"

"You heard me, Arthur."

"No." Arthur shook his head. "Absolutely not! I will _not_ have a dragon as a shadow, Merlin!"

"That's too bad because whether you like it or not that's how it's going to be," Merlin snipped, folding his arms defiantly.

"Merlin, I can't walk around everywhere with a dragon!"

The king was expecting the warlock to make some teasing comment but the expression Merlin sent him was the exact opposite. He appeared almost desperate, his eyes shining with an inner pleading for Arthur not only to listen but comply with what he had to say. It was a look the king was very familiar with – it happened every time Merlin was trying to tell him something he didn't want to hear.

"Arthur, please," he begged, his inner fear for the king's wellbeing clearly heard in his trembling voice, "having Aithusa at your side is almost as good as having me there. She can protect you from harm and alert me immediately through mental link if something is wrong. I can't stand the thought of anything happening to you. I know that you might not like having a dragon as a companion for a week and that many will not agree with it but you must allow it. If you don't feel that you need the protection yourself then, please, do this for me. It's the only alternative I can think of that will keep you safe while a slew of sorcerers dwell in your halls."

Arthur stared at his concerned friend for several moments, overwhelmed by the sheer force of emotion from his words. It was hard for him to even comprehend how it was even possible for one person to show such affection, such love, if you will, for someone else. Arthur was overcome and for a while he didn't even know what to say. Merlin's desperation to see him safe was so vast – it left the king speechless.

Merlin's gaze dropped to his well polished boots. "Perhaps it is too much for me to ask," he mumbled, "I'm sorry, sire, I shouldn't have–"

"Merlin," Arthur gently interrupted, "you know I hate it when you call me sire."

Merlin sadly smiled. "Sorry."

The king sighed. How could he say no when Merlin was looking like a drowned puppy? "I guess I'll just have to get used to it – though it'll be strange having a dragon wandering around beside me instead of a bumbling idiot."

Merlin looked up, shocked. "What?"

Arthur smirked. "Really, Merlin, you're the one saying I have difficulties tapping into intelligence? I said, I'll allow Aithusa to follow me around."

"You will?"

"Yes," the king groaned, getting slightly exasperated with the warlock. "Now, before you go jumping about in excitement, you need to focus on making up the rules for this tournament! And I only have half an hour left to help you."

"Thank you, Arthur," Merlin cried, his shoulders visibly relaxing, "you have no idea how much it eases my mind to have Aithusa with you."

"Merlin, she won't be with me if you don't have something to present to the council in two days."

"Right," the warlock muttered seriously, "where do we start?"

[][][]

The sun was setting as the small group led their horses out of the gates of the city towards the Darkling Woods. They were headed by the king and his warlock, the two men riding side by side while their most trusted friends, the Knights of the Round, trailed behind them. Arthur breathed his first sigh of relief when they reached the cover of the forest. He'd been stuck with the council for almost an hour, listening to their somewhat reluctant acceptance of his marriage proposal to Guinevere and a few of the lords ridiculous uncertainties with the idea of the magical tournament being his way of announcing the engagement to the people. Arthur scowled as he remembered the tail end of the meeting.

" _Sire, is it really wise to announce your engagement while the city may be filled with those intent to kill you?" asked Lord Kriss._

 _Arthur frowned at the man; he was one of the few who had been most displeased about the proposal. "I have all faith that Merlin will have a plan concerning mine and Guinevere's safety during the tournament."_

" _Are you certain that he will spare time to think of that?" asked Lord Darius. "He has many other things to prepare for. It might slip his mind."_

 _This was so ridiculous to the king that he burst out laughing. The lords looked surprised – a few even insulted – but Arthur had his fill before settling his mirth into silent chuckles. "My dear Lord Darius, I am shocked you are even questioning such a thing! Have all of you forgotten Merlin's story? The man only shared it yesterday. I would have thought his actions made it clear that my safety is his number one priority."_

" _That may be true but now that he has the chance to legalize magic…" Lord Kriss argued._

 _Arthur's humor left him instantly. "Stop right there, Kriss!" he thundered, glaring at the pompous man across from him. Several of the lords drew back in their chairs from the intensity coming from him, preparing for the wrath he was about to unleash on the foolish councilman. "How dare you even suggest that Merlin act selfishly at a time like this! That idiot cares more about my life than he does his own! Do you forget what he has been through in my behalf? I have treated him horribly and yet he has stayed by my side, suffering in silence, while trying to do everything he can to keep me alive! Would you do such a thing?"_

 _Lord Kriss remained silent, angry but unwilling to answer Arthur's question. They both knew the lord's loyalty was nothing compared to the warlock's. Satisfied, Arthur leaned back in his chair, trying his hardest not to appear too smug._

" _Reserve your opinions for later, gentlemen," he advised. "When Merlin presents his plans I give you permission to voice your concerns. Until then, hold your silence concerning the engagement and the tournament. When the time is right we will announce both events to the people."_

"Arthur?"

The king pulled himself from his thoughts. "Yes, Merlin?"

"Are you alright? You looked like you were thinking a little too hard over there."

The corner of his mouth lifted at the invitation and the king replied, "Not as hard as you may be thinking on how to stay upright on your horse, Merlin. It's a wonder how you are about to remain in the saddle with how clumsy you are. As I recall, you had quite the difficult time remaining there when you first became my servant."

Merlin smiled. "That was almost ten years ago, cabbage head. I'm perfectly capable of staying on my horse now."

From somewhere behind them, they heard a female voice mutter to Leon, "Are they always like this?"

Leon chuckled. "You'll get used to it, Isolde."

"Yeah," Gwaine agreed, "if they don't bicker like women then you know something is wrong."

"Shut up, Gwaine!" Arthur called over his shoulder.

"See, princess agrees."

Arthur caught Merlin's amused eye before rolling his own. Isolde and Tristan had been asked to accompany the others in this venture since they were now part of the Round Table group. Arthur also thought it would be good for them to get out of the castle since many of the noblewomen had not been very cordial with Isolde and her new position. Besides the title of knighthood itself, they highly disapproved of her having such a deep relationship with a knight outside the bonds of matrimony. Arthur was going to talk to Tristan about this subject at a later time but for now it wasn't his main concern.

After the council had disbursed, Arthur had gone to see how Merlin was fairing. The warlock had been up to his elbows in parchment and ink, several black spots dotting his face from how frantically he was scribbling on a scroll. He'd paused when the king had arrived and made the suggestion of going to see the druids as soon as possible to ask for their help since he knew they wouldn't be participating in the fights. Arthur had argued that if they were unwilling to fight then they didn't seem to be good for security but then Merlin reminded him of their telepathic and healing abilities. Arthur couldn't deny that both talents would be very useful so he agreed to going to seek out the druids that evening rather than waiting tomorrow. Besides, he still needed to thank them for their help during the battle.

"We should reach them soon," Merlin informed, almost as if he could read the king's thoughts.

"Do they know we're coming?" asked Percival.

"Oh yes," Merlin answered. "They're rather… _excited_ to see all of us…"

Amused, the king prodded, "I imagine the children will want to play with you again."

Merlin's cheeks were a little pink. "Yes… Iseldir has invited us to dine with the elders again."

"Should we accept?" asked Elyan.

Arthur debated over it before coming to a decision. "We might as well. We're trying to improve relations with them and being seen in the camp again in such a manner will work in our favor."

A few minutes later Merlin pulled his steed to a halt, the others following his example. Dismounting, Arthur looked down at Excalibur and frowned. He didn't feel comfortable leaving the sword behind. Merlin had told him how dangerous it could be in the wrong hands and the king was loath to even think of having anyone else in possession of it. Merlin noticed him fingering the hilt uncertainly.

"Take it with you, Arthur," he said.

"But wouldn't I frighten them if I walk into the camp with such a weapon?"

Merlin shook his head. "They will recognize the magic it holds. Leave behind your other weapons but take Excalibur. It would be unwise to leave it here anyway."

Arthur sighed. "Alright."

Indicating for the others to leave their weapons as well – much to Tristan and Isolde's displeasure – the king stripped himself of all weapons but his sword before following Merlin through the trees towards the druid camp. Just like before, the quiet sounds of laughter could be heard in the distance, growing louder as they approached. Arthur sensed a shiver of excitement from the warlock right before Merlin stepped through a thick set of bushes into the clearing currently inhabited by the druids.

Once more Arthur witnessed open displays of magic as children chased after floating lights, women whispered to cooking pots, and men gently coaxed tents to rise on their own. The exposure didn't set the king into a fit of nerves this time. He was still a little wary but he no longer felt threatened. The moment Emrys and the Knights of Camelot stepped out of the trees, all eyes turned in their direction.

Arthur watched in silent awe and pride as Merlin squared his shoulders and walked into the camp without a second thought, every inch a king. He smiled warmly at those who called out his druidic name and nodded to the elderly that he passed. He seemed to know exactly where he was going so Arthur and the others followed behind him without complaint. Merlin stopped by a fire that had been built in the center of the camp, respectfully inclining his head towards Iseldir.

"Emrys," the druid chieftain greeted as he bowed at the waist, "it is good to see you again."

"Thank you for allowing Arthur and the knights to enter your encampment on my behalf," Merlin said with gratitude.

"Your king is always welcome here, Emrys," he replied, respectfully inclining his head towards Arthur who now stood on Merlin's right side. "You said you had something important to ask us?"

"Yes," Merlin said, grateful to get right to the point. It was clear he was uncomfortable with the awe-filled stares around him; the druids had gathered to hear why Emrys had once more graced them with his presence. "Arthur has something he would like to announce."

Arthur hadn't been prepared for that. Glaring at Merlin but having a fairly good idea as to what the warlock was trying to do, the king decided to concede with his intentions. Stepping forward and drawing a deep breath, Arthur spoke to the gathered people as he would his own from his balcony back in Camelot.

"My friends," he declared, "I address you as such for I feel no animosity towards you. Due to recent events -as well as old- I have come to understand that the practice of magic should not be viewed or treated the way I and my people have been taught. I come before you to announce that I will be lifting the ban of magic and in celebration will be holding a magical tournament in a fortnight in Camelot."

There was a collective gasp followed by a dull muttering of shocked disbelief which soon transformed into exclamations of joy towards Emrys and the Once and Future King. The tumult of emotion was so grand that even the king was touched, his gaze softening and his heart feeling slightly guilty as he witnessed the tears of relief and happiness trailing down several older faces in the crowd.

Iseldir, though not in tears, was overwhelmed. "If this is true, our prayers have finally been answered."

"It is true," Merlin stated, his own face shining with pure happiness. His voice hushed the gathered druids immediately, all of them unconsciously leaning forward to hear what Emrys would say. "Arthur will lift the ban and magic will be welcomed in Camelot once more. The magical tournament he is planning to host will be the beginning of the New Age."

"While I have high hopes that many will attend this event, I must also confess I am a little wary," Arthur said, regaining their attention. "Do not misunderstand," he said quickly, "I do not wish to gaze upon any who come to participate with mistrust but I have been exposed to a rather remarkable amount of sorcerers with ill intentions. There is a possibility that a participant might have the desire to use their gifts to endanger my people or myself. Merlin will do what he can to prevent this from happening but he is only one man. This is why I have come to ask if there would be any here willing to use their gifts to help him should any such catastrophe occur."

There was a dull murmur and an exchange of unease on many faces.

"I do not expect you to use your magic against another sorcerer," Arthur comforted, hoping that his next words would sway some to the cause. "Merlin explained to me that your people have the ability to speak to one another through the mind. This would be most helpful in uprooting a threat which Merlin or my men could then take care of. I also know that druids are famous for their healing abilities and since tournaments always bring battle wounds I wondered if some would be willing to help our physician as he aided the participants."

There was a silence throughout the camp as no one dared to voice their thoughts. Many were filled with indecision and fear. Most looked to Iseldir, waiting to hear what he would decide. Arthur glanced nervously at Merlin. The warlock sent him a supportive half smile, silently communicating through his eyes that it was best to wait.

Arthur hated waiting.

Trying his best to keep his mouth shut, the king focused on subtly grinding the back of his heel into the dirt floor. After what felt like an age, Iseldir stepped forward.

"You ask much, Arthur Pendragon. You should not be surprised that many of us are afraid to set foot in your kingdom despite your word that magic will no longer be banned. We have lost many due to your father's decree."

"I understand," Arthur said, silently disappointed. They weren't going to help. He had a feeling this was a refusal.

"We must have some more time to discuss this new development," Iseldir continued as the other elders behind him nodded their heads. "While we do so you are welcome to wait in my tent. Food will be brought to you as I'm sure you are in need of nourishment."

"That would most welcome," Arthur answered diplomatically. He wasn't happy about being dismissed but he understood the reasoning.

A young boy stepped forward, clearly the one to lead them to Iseldir's tent. Bowing to Merlin with a look of awe, the boy led them away from the fire and past a few tents before coming to the one belonging to the chieftain. Merlin lifted the flap for the king before entering himself, Arthur sending him a grateful glance as he did so. The others shuffled in after them and settled onto the rug they'd sat on before when Merlin was still a child. Isolde and Tristan looked around in interest, taking in the small possessions and the druidic flags hanging down from the covered ceiling.

"Well, that went well," Gwaine said as soon as the tent flap obscured them from view.

"Do you think they'll help?" asked Isolde before Arthur could.

Everyone looked to Merlin who shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable under their scrutiny. "Some of them are really against the idea," he admitted, "but I think there are others willing to give us a chance."

"How do you know that?" Tristan asked. "It was silent as the grave out there to me."

Merlin tapped the side of his head. "Perks of being me – I'm one of the few non-druids that can telepathically speak. They may have been silent to you but they were very loud to me. I'm glad Iseldir sent us away; I was getting a headache listening to all the voices."

"Why can't we hear anything they're saying now?" asked Percival, glancing at the tent entrance.

"Magic," Merlin answered with a shrug. "There's a silencing charm on the tent so we can't eavesdrop – that includes telepathic conversations as well, in case you were wondering."

"Can't you remove it?" asked Elyan.

Merlin immediately shook his head. "I could but I'm not going to. It would be an invasion of their privacy and it would show that we don't trust them. I'm perfectly capable of protecting all of you so you can relax your fears. Besides, we're in no danger. The druids have no intention of hurting any of us."

The tent flap was pulled back and several girls walked in with their arms loaded down with trays of food. The nearest approached Merlin, setting down the largest helping before him, her face tinged pink. "My lord," she muttered, bowing to him before stepping away.

"Thank you," Merlin said to her with a smile.

Arthur raised an eyebrow as he noticed his portion size was the same as the knights and less than Merlin's share. The girls left the tent with barely contained giggles, all of them eyeing Merlin with fascination. The second the tent flap closed Merlin let out an exasperated sigh as he rubbed his forehead.

Gwaine began to laugh. "I never thought I'd see the day when Merlin would get more attention and respect than you, princess!"

Arthur scowled while Merlin immediately began to apologize. The king stopped him immediately. "For goodness sake, Merlin, don't apologize! Their behavior is perfectly warranted. You are their king not me and honestly I'm fine with that. It's about time you were treated by people the way you ought to be. Now shut up, you idiot, and eat your dinner."

And without another word the king picked up a piece of venison and stuffed it into his mouth. Merlin was surprised but decided to comply without complaint for once. The others watched the exchange in amusement before digging into their own meal.

Shortly after the food was consumed and Arthur was beginning to wonder exactly how long they'd have to wait, the tent flap opened and a young man around the age of seventeen stepped inside. He wore a simple gray tunic, a pair of black breeches, and knee high boots. Two wide hazel eyes rested under a crop of slightly curled dark brown hair. The king was oddly reminded of a younger version of Merlin as the boy inclined his head in greeting.

"My lords, they are ready for you," he said stiffly.

Merlin was the first to stand. "Thank you."

The boy nodded to him, holding the tent flap back respectfully. Arthur sent the boy another curious glance before following Merlin out of the tent. They reached the gathered crowd and Iseldir nodded to Merlin and Arthur before addressing them equally.

"Emrys, King Arthur, after much deliberation we have decided to accept your proposal."

The nerves residing inside the king's stomach unclenched and a small sigh of relief escaped Arthur's lips. Merlin's smile stretched almost to his overly large ears.

"That's great!" he said enthusiastically.

Iseldir's return smile was not as large but it did cause the man's eyes to twinkle. "We are happy to see the prophecy finally coming into fruition, Emrys. However, due to the delicacy of the situation, not all of us are willing to leave the woods just yet."

Arthur stepped in before Merlin could. "I was not expecting anyone to uproot the life they have here in my request."

"We understand that, your majesty," Iseldir smiled. "Fifteen of our finest have volunteered to work alongside your knights as messengers should you accept them."

Arthur raised a curious brow. "I don't see any reason not to if they are pure of heart and their intent is to protect."

Iseldir glanced at one of the other leaders; Balin, if Arthur remembered correctly. The grizzled man had a small sneer on his face. "Even if some of them are women?" he challenged.

It was Isolde who answered, stepping forward clad in similar armor to that of the rest of the knights. "The king of Camelot does not base one's merit on gender. As you can see, I am a knight of Camelot, the first woman to become so."

The silence was broken as a surprised muttering started from the gathering of druids, a few of the children lifting on their toes to get a better look at the woman in armor. Isolde stood proud and Arthur sent her a grateful glance before addressing the crowd.

"It is true," he stated, raising his voice so all could hear. "Isolde is the first woman to join my army and I would gladly accept more who are willing and prove their worth."

Helena, the female druid leader, eyed Arthur with an amused glint in her dancing irises. "It would seem that many changes are coming to Camelot."

"Indeed," muttered Ridoric who sent the king a wink.

"We have ten others who have volunteered to help with matters of healing," Iseldir continued as if the earlier interruption had not occurred. "All are gone to prepare for departure. They should be ready in the next ten minutes."

Arthur was surprised but happy with this news. The looks of hostility he'd been given the last time he was here may have been replaced with looks of hesitant curiosity but the king still felt out of place. He wanted to return to Camelot.

"Excellent. We'll leave in fifteen," he stated.

Arthur was about to step away when the boy who had been sent to fetch them broke away from the side to address the druid chieftain. "Iseldir, do you think it wise to allow so many of our kind to leave with him?" the boy sent Arthur a suspicious glance.

Arthur stiffened. "Why do you ask, boy?"

The king was surprised when, instead of shrinking, the young man held his ground and defiantly squared his shoulders; though he didn't realize it, silent approval sparked inside the sovereign from this action.

"Hundreds of our people died at the hands of both you and your father," the boy replied.

"Daegal," Ridoric warned.

Daegal shook off the older druid's hand, glaring challengingly at the king. "Well? Have you nothing to say, _my lord?"_

The last words were emphasized with a slight sneer. In his younger years Arthur would have been goaded but as an older man he was much wiser now. Slightly amused by this boy's bravery, Arthur decided to answer honestly.

"I heavily regret every ill-will I have brought to your people and I apologize for the cruel misguided violence of my father. I know neither of those things mean much to you but I am offering an olive branch in coming here to your camp and asking for magical help. I promise to do everything in my power to protect those who volunteer to come with me. You may not believe it, but recent events have left me questioning everything I have ever been taught concerning magic. Merlin, or Emrys as your people seem to call him, is the main benefactor of this inquiry. I am trying to give magic a chance. If you doubt me, perhaps you would like to accompany us to Camelot and see firsthand what I am trying to do to atone for the mistakes of my past."

The challenge was given respectfully but the undertone of goading the young boy was not missed by Merlin or the knights. The warlock raised an amused brow towards the king but said nothing while the knights glanced at one another with a hint of a smile.

Daegal was an intelligent young man, catching the king's silent challenge to his manhood immediately. If he didn't accept, he would be viewed as a coward. If he left, he'd have to face the possibility that perhaps his opinion of the king was wrong. Arthur had backed him into a corner and both of them knew it. The question was, would the kid rise to the bait? Arthur silently hoped so. This was why he waited, allowing the young man to come to his own decision.

Ridoric, who seemed to be some sort of authority for the boy, stepped forward. "Sire, please forgive my charge. He did not mean to question your motives."

Daegal glared at the older druid. This seemed to spur him into making a decision. "I'll go with you," he declared, holding his head high.

Arthur found himself inwardly smiling. Trying to keep his amusement from his face, he turned on his heel and said dismissively over his shoulder, "We're departing in ten minutes. If you don't meet us by our horses just outside your camp at that time we _will_ leave without you. Come on, Merlin."

The warlock nodded dismissively to the elders before following after his king. Slipping past the rather amused knights, he easily caught up with Arthur and fell into equal stride beside him.

"What are you doing?"

Arthur pretended to be ignorant. "I'm heading towards the horses, Merlin. I thought that was obvious."

"You know what I mean," Merlin pressed. "Why did you challenge that boy to come with us? What are you plotting?"

"Never you mind, Merlin," the king answered evasively as they reached the tethered horses. "Leon, Elyan, go back to Camelot and inform the Council of our arrival. Make sure there are rooms prepared for our guests. If you can, try to find space close to Gaius's chambers for the healers and a corridor near the knights' wing for the rest."

Leon bowed. "We'll see that it's done, sire."

Elyan nodded to him before the two mounted their horses and spurred them back towards the city. Merlin was still eyeing Arthur curiously but the king kept his plotting to himself. Daegal intrigued him and Arthur wanted to get to know the boy more. He couldn't do that if he didn't come to Camelot so the king had simply created a scenario that made it so he would.

Ten minutes later the clearing they were in filled with the druid company, Daegal included. Arthur nodded to the boy in approval. The druids did not have their own steeds so the king opted for traveling with them on foot. Grabbing the reigns of his horse, he led the procession along, Merlin and the knights copying his actions. Arthur was pleased to see that unlike the druids who decided to follow behind them, Daegal had bravely pushed his way to the front, settling for walking beside him and Merlin.

"Did you have something to say?" Arthur prompted.

"Do I have to in order to walk next to a king?" Daegal challenged though there was no malice in his tone. He actually sounded more curious than anything else.

"Not at all," Merlin answered before Arthur could. "Though I don't see why you'd want to walk next to King Prat; he isn't great company, truth be told."

Arthur affectionately knocked into Merlin with his shoulder. The warlock grinned, rubbing the area even though it hadn't hurt him in the slightest. Daegal watched the interaction with interest. After a moment's silence, Merlin decided to begin the questions Arthur himself was debating whether or not to ask.

"So, Daegal, how old are you?"

"Seventeen," he answered, confirming Arthur's earlier assumption.

Merlin smiled. "That's a good age to be. Are you a druid?"

Arthur thought that was a stupid question. Of course the boy was a druid! Why else would he be living in a druid camp?

"No, actually," Daegal confessed. "My mother was like you though – I mean, she had magic."

He glanced at Arthur in contempt for a moment before looking away. The king filled with a sense of foreboding. "What happened to her?" he reluctantly asked, somehow knowing the answer.

"Your father executed her."

So that was it. Daegal had ever right to be wary of Arthur's intentions of leading so many magic users back to Camelot. He'd experienced firsthand the horrors of the Purge.

"I'm sorry," Arthur said, truly meaning it.

Daegal didn't acknowledge his apology. Instead he bitterly muttered, "Because of what she was, my village cast me out. I traveled on my own until the druids took me in. I was in a bad way – begging for food does that to you – they healed my ills and gave me a home. I'm indebted to them. I decided to come to make sure they stay safe. I may not have magic but I have other skills – and I won't hesitate to use them either."

Arthur was impressed by this boy's courage and saddened that he'd lived through such hardship at such a young age. He felt awful that his father was mainly the cause for it but there was nothing he could do to change the past. He could only try to make amends by proving his intentions to Daegal and any others like him by legalizing and accepting magic back into his kingdom. He found his prayers that this magical tournament would be a success growing further each day.

"There will be no need for violence, Daegal," Merlin said as the group trundled down the darkened path. "The druids will be safe in Camelot, I can promise you that."

"We'll see," the young boy muttered under his breath.

Arthur felt himself silently agreeing. Indeed they would see. This magical tournament would either make or break the future he desired to build. He glanced at Merlin, grateful for the thousandth time that he had the warlock's full support in this endeavor. He knew without doubt this whole thing would fail without his friend by his side.

Despite the late hour, his council was waiting on the steps to greet the small company when they arrived an hour later, the old lords filled with a silent trepidation as they watched the hooded procession of druids almost glide across the cobbled stones in the courtyard behind their king. Arthur passed the reins of his horse to the nearby stable boy before walking up the steps and turning to face the druids. Their dark cloaks of brown and green may have disguised most of their faces but their apprehension was obvious as they unconsciously huddled close together. Daegal stood protectively beside them, his eyes narrowed suspiciously as they moved back and forth in preparation for an attack.

Arthur sighed. This was to be expected but it was slightly disheartening. Merlin patted his shoulder comfortingly, sending much needed reassurance. The king shook off his silent discouragement and squared his shoulders.

"We welcome you to Camelot. Rooms have already been prepared for you; Merlin will happily escort you to them. Tomorrow evening I will address the people. Until then, I ask that you remain in the castle for your safety."

Daegal did not seem happy about this but the oldest of the group, a man with short brown hair and remarkable gray eyes, stepped forward and spoke for the others, "We will do as you suggest, your highness. Thank you for your hospitality and concern in our behalf."

Arthur nodded to them before sharing an understanding look with Merlin. No words were needed; the warlock set right to work guiding the druids to their respective rooms after receiving brief instructions from Leon where they were located. The councilmen followed the king inside, nodding respectively to him before retiring to their own chambers.

Arthur let out a sigh when he finally found himself alone. It had been a long day and tomorrow was going to be an even longer one. He was halfway to his chambers when a slender hand shot out of an alcove and latched onto his wrist, pulling him gently to the side. Recognizing the touch immediately, the king began to smile.

"Guinevere," he sighed, his arms latching around her skinny frame, his chin resting against her dark curls.

"I missed you," she muttered into his chest.

"And I you." He kissed her forehead.

"You spoke with the council?"

"I did. They support us," he grinned.

Her relief was evident in her smile at the news. "That's wonderful!" she breathed. "Thank goodness."

Arthur chuckled. "You have nothing to fear, Guinevere. We've been openly courting for a while now. They expected this. You may be surprised but most of them highly approve of you. I'm grateful; I'd rather have them courteous towards my wife than not."

Guinevere blushed slightly, her smile and eyes warm. "As long as I have your love, Arthur, that is enough."

"You'll always have it," he promised before leaning down to kiss her delicate lips, a smile on his face.

[][][]

Arthur was in the middle of a beautiful dream when something startled him awake. Sitting bolt upright, the king looked around wildly, reaching for the sword he kept by his bed.

"Sorry!" came a frantic voice in the dark at his bedside.

"Merlin!" Arthur cried, silently relieved he wasn't a threat. Squinting as his eyes adjusted, the king was barely able to make out his friend's silhouette. Judging by how dark it was, it must be the middle of the night. "What are you doing here?"

Two orbs of yellow sparked into life before a ball of white light appeared in Merlin's hand. The warlock gently flicked his wrist and it left his hand to float casually above their heads. Now that his face was no longer shroud in shadow, Arthur could see how haunted Merlin's expression was. He was slightly trembling and he kept fidgeting back and forth while biting his lip nervously.

Arthur sat up. "Merlin?" he gently coaxed, "What's wrong?"

Two extremely vulnerable blue eyes glanced up at him. "I remember," Merlin whispered.

"You remember?" Arthur asked, his brain still too asleep to understand exactly what Merlin was getting at. "You remember what?"

"What happened," Merlin answered, "after Alator cursed me."

Arthur woke up instantly. "Everything?" he asked, recalling some of the more embarrassing moments he shared with the five year old warlock.

Merlin nodded. "Arthur," he hesitantly began, "can I stay with you awhile?"

Arthur frowned. "You're not sharing a bed with me," he warned.

Merlin's face turned bright red and he groaned. "I'd hoped that was just a dream," he muttered, holding a hand over his eyes. "Did I really make you sleep next to me?"

Arthur scowled in response.

"I'm sorry," Merlin mumbled, devastation and dejection causing his shoulders to sag. "I was only trying to help… I thought… I thought you liked when I made the night sky..."

Arthur studied Merlin a moment. The man wasn't acting like himself but like… well, like _child_ Merlin. He didn't seem sure of himself, his eyes held a naked vulnerability, and he was still shuffling nervously back and forth. Arthur let out a sigh, patting his mattress indicating for Merlin to join him.

Merlin, overcome, sat down immediately next to the king and – without thinking – wrapped his arms around Arthur, burying his head into the crook of his neck. Arthur was frozen in place, his eyes wide with horror. He was just about to throw Merlin off of him when he felt the man's trembling. Feeling completely awkward, Arthur ignored the impulse to shove his manservant away and instead slowly raised his arms, loosely wrapping them around Merlin's back.

"What's wrong?" he muttered, hesitantly patting Merlin's head a few times.

"They caught me again, Arthur," Merlin muttered. "They caught me and took me away. You weren't there."

Arthur stilled. "Did you have another nightmare?"

Merlin, realizing the precarious position they were in, pulled out of the king's embrace and took a shaky breath. "I'm sorry, Arthur," he apologized, clasping his hands in his lap. "I don't know what came over me. I shouldn't have…"

"Merlin," Arthur gently chided, "it's alright. Really," he added when the warlock looked at him in shock. "Tell me what's troubling you."

Merlin frowned as he shook his head.

"There's so much," he muttered. "I _did_ have one – a nightmare, I mean… it was just like the ones I used to have as a child."

"So you really did dream about me when you were little?"

Merlin nodded sheepishly. "I didn't know who you were then," he said with a small smile, "but you always saved me in my nightmares. I stopped having them after I turned seven though. I think the only reason I remember having them now is because of Alator's curse."

Arthur let out a soft chuckle, "Well, I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you actually did dream about me as a kid. Strange things tend to happen to you, you know."

Merlin smiled sadly. "I know."

Arthur studied him a moment more before nudging him in the shoulder. "Alright, what's wrong? You have the face of a wounded bear."

Merlin laughed slightly through his nose, the corner of his lips twitching before returning to their previous frown. "I killed Agravaine."

Arthur blinked. Of all things, he hadn't been expecting _that_. "What?"

"I killed Agravaine," Merlin repeated, forlorn.

"Merlin, you didn't kill him. You were in my arms the whole time we were running from him and the Southrons," Arthur consoled, ignoring how strange it sounded saying that he'd been carrying the man now that Merlin was no longer a child.

"I ordered Kilgharrah to kill them," Merlin countered, his voice bitter. "He was following my orders, Arthur. I asked him to kill all of them. What kind of five year old demands such a thing?"

Arthur took Merlin's shoulders and shook them slightly to get the warlock's attention. "Contrary to what you have led yourself to believe, you were not really five years old when you gave that order, Merlin," he stated.

Merlin raised a skeptical brow. "Arthur, did you forget exactly what happened a few days ago?"

"Believe me, Merlin, I don't think I'll ever forget having to deal with you as a five year old," he said with a mock grimace. Merlin smiled weakly. Arthur continued in a more serious tone, "Look, what I was trying to get at before is that there were times when I would see your older self shining through the child you. You would say things, do things, that no ordinary five year old would be capable of doing or knowing. When Agravaine and his men were nearly upon us, you were a hysterical mess crying on my shoulder. Then, out of the blue, you became a powerful dragonlord and called on Kilgharrah for aid. I personally think _you_ subconsciously reached through the barrier of your childlike mind when I needed you –the older you – the most."

"I'm not going to lie, if I had been older, I wouldn't have handled the situation differently. But that doesn't change the fact that I'm responsible for killing all those men," Merlin bitterly replied. "I've killed so many people, Arthur..." – he shook his head despondently – "I hate ending life."

Arthur unconsciously wrapped an arm around Merlin and the warlock instinctively rested his head against his shoulder. "You do what you have to do, Merlin," the king muttered, "and you do it not because you want to but because sometimes it's the only conclusion you can draw. I know you. I know that you don't like fighting or killing things but you're fearless in doing what needs to be done in order to protect those that you love. I'm sorry that you feel responsible for the deaths of all of those men but, Merlin, you can't allow yourself to dwell on it. You must move on. You'll tear yourself apart if you hold onto things like this."

"But I killed your uncle!"

"Technically Kilgharrah killed him."

"Arthur!"

"What? It's the truth."

Merlin scowled. "I know but I'm the one who gave the order."

Arthur sighed. "Look, Merlin, what do you want me to say? _'I'm so angry that you killed my traitorous uncle, a man I was going to execute myself for betraying and selling secrets of the crown to our enemies?'"_

Merlin's frown deepened. "Arthur, he was still your uncle."

"Yes, but he was also a traitor and a man whose eventual fate was the gallows. You might have done him a favor, allowing Kilgharrah to burn him to a crisp. His death was short, probably even painless – not that he deserved it."

"Arthur," Merlin gently chided, "you shouldn't think that way. Justice does not seek to inflict torture or suffering; it deals the appropriate punishment with swiftness and gains no pleasure from doing so."

Arthur sighed and shook his head. "Once again you prove to be a better man than I, Merlin."

"You sell yourself short, sire," Merlin comforted, "you have always executed judgment with justice and mercy."

"Because you show me the way."

"And you listen."

Arthur frowned. "Not always – and don't you dare try to contradict me on that, Merlin, because we both know it's true. There have been many times you have warned me and I haven't listened. And I'm so sorry that I didn't."

Merlin placed a comforting hand on Arthur's shoulder and squeezed. "Sometimes the people we love have to find their own way, even if we try our best to lead them along. You made mistakes, Arthur, but you learned from them. You are a great man because of it and I truly have to thank you."

"For what?" Arthur asked incredulously.

"For not rejecting and abandoning me in the woods," Merlin sadly smiled, "for playing with me, allowing me to steal your food, and keeping me safe. I remember everything – some things I'm more embarrassed about than others – and through it all the only thing I felt from you was patience, protection, acceptance, and love. I mean, you even helped me take a bath!"

"Don't remind me," Arthur groaned.

Merlin weakly chuckled. "Believe me, I'm just as embarrassed about it now as you are. What I'm getting at, Arthur, is that you are an incredible person who I know will one day be the king to unite all of these lands. I look forward to the day that everyone can see the man that I have come to know – the greatest friend, the greatest king, a warlock could ever ask for."

Arthur smirked a little. "You know, there was a time that I thought all your compliments meant you wanted something from me."

Merlin laughed. "Well, sometimes that's still true." The warlock sobered and then let out a bone-weary sigh. "Arthur?"

"Yes, Merlin?"

Merlin fidgeted. "There may be times," he began hesitantly, "that I may feel… _vulnerable._ "

"Vulnerable?"

"I mean – well," Merlin mumbled, "… situations may arise that will trigger a… _reaction_ that might be similar to what – to what _Arlin_ – that is to say – what five year old me – would do."

"Like you coming to me in the middle of the night," Arthur muttered, realizing what Merlin was getting at.

"I don't mean to be a bother," Merlin added hurriedly, "I just want you to understand, Arthur. I might do things that aren't what an adult would–"

"Merlin," Arthur interrupted, "it's alright."

Merlin stared. "Huh?"

The king smiled. "It's alright," he repeated. "You don't need to explain. I might not be able to empathize with your situation but I want to help. It's the least I can do after all you've done for me. If you need to talk, we'll talk – even if it's in the middle of the night like this. If you need… well… if you need a, uh, a hug or whatever, that's fine too. But only when we're alone – I don't need any rumors starting – especially since I'm now an engaged man."

Arthur looked away, his cheeks pink. There was a sudden ruffle of movement and his body was unexpectedly encased in a grateful embrace, Merlin holding onto him tightly.

"Thank you," he whispered, a few tears leaking from his eyes onto Arthur's shoulder.

After a moment's pause, Arthur relaxed into the embrace and smiled. "You're welcome, old friend. I'll always be here should you need me."

Merlin weakly laughed, pulling away and wiping tears from his cheeks. The two shared an affectionate smile before Arthur ruffled Merlin's hair.

"Are you alright now?" he gently asked.

Merlin nodded. "Yes, Arthur; thanks to you."

The tender moment was suddenly rudely interrupted by the obnoxious ring of the warning bell. Arthur and Merlin shared a look before both sprung from the bed, Arthur reaching for his nightshirt just as Merlin lit the candles in the room with a flash of his eyes. A second later the doors burst open.

"Sire!" Sir Pelleas shouted, storming in.

"Pelleas, what's happened?" Arthur demanded, pulling his shirt down to his waist.

"Morgana's rouge sorcerers, the ones we arrested and locked in the cells after reclaiming the city; sire, they've escaped!"

Merlin shared a concerned look with Arthur. "That shouldn't have been possible!" the warlock muttered, bewildered. "Arthur, I placed a containment spell over their magic. They shouldn't have been able to get out."

"I don't blame you, Merlin," Arthur assured.

"Nor I, "Pelleas agreed. "The locks were broken from the outside."

The king scowled. "That means they had an accomplice. Pelleas, seal off the gates. There's a chance they're still in the city."

"Sire," Pelleas muttered, inclining his head before leaving the room.

"Come on, Merlin."

"Where are _we_ going?"

"To the cells.; there might be clues we can follow."

King and warlock rushed from the room, running down the halls towards the dungeons. Taking the steps two at a time, Arthur reached the bottom and ran the length of the dark hallway towards where the sorcerers had been kept. The door was open.

"No sign of forced entry," he muttered, stepping into the cell. "A key perhaps?"

Merlin ran a hand along the cell door and frowned. "This door was opened with magic," he stated. "There's a trace on it."

"Was it Morgana?" Arthur asked, worried that they'd have to deal with his sister sooner than he had anticipated.

Merlin shook his head. "I'd recognize if it were her; her magic leaves a rather bitter trace. No, this was someone else."

Arthur frowned. "Be honest, Merlin, do you think they're still in the city?"

Merlin sighed. "It's difficult to say, Arthur. Powerful sorcerers can transport themselves short distances and most of the prisoners in this cell fit under that category; Morgana wouldn't have added them to her army if they were weak. I hate to say it but I'm afraid they're probably long gone."

"Is there a way you can check?" Arthur asked. "Usually there are physical traces when someone is trying to escape. Can magical break outs leave similar signs?"

Merlin frowned, thinking. "Maybe…"

His eyes suddenly flared the usual hue of gold and a sparkling golden mist appeared inside the cell, soaking into the ground. Arthur watched in fascination as the magical haze reappeared from the earth in the shape of multiple footprints in the floor. The golden indentations left the cell but only a few paces before stopping.

"Just as I suspected," Merlin sighed in disappointment. "They transported, Arthur."

"You're certain these footprints are theirs?"

Merlin nodded. "I made it so the spell would only pick up on people with magic. Not to mention the tracks stop right after they left the cell – just far enough away for my containment spell to no longer suppress their powers."

Arthur sighed. "Well, that's disappointing – that they disappeared, I mean. I confess I sort of forgot about them since there's been so much else going on around here. Their trials were going to take place in a few days, if I remember right. Rather interesting tracking spell though, Merlin. Have you used it before?"

Merlin shook his head, scratching his cheek sheepishly. "Not really; I just made it up."

Arthur was both surprised and impressed. "Impressive," he commented. "That'll come in handy in the future... well, since there's no way to really go after them, perhaps we should discuss a way to make the cell doors magic proof so this kind of thing doesn't happen again."

Merlin hung his head. "I'm sorry, Arthur. I should have foreseen something like this."

"Merlin, don't blame yourself," Arthur consoled. "What's done is done. The best we can do is focus on tightening our security."

"But what if they come back?" Merlin argued. "They'll seek revenge, Arthur."

"They might," the king agreed, "but there's no use worrying about it now. They're gone – there isn't a way to track them – so the only thing we can do is prepare ourselves for when they return – if they even do. Come on, Merlin. We'll call off the search and then I suggest we both get some sleep. There's much to be done and neither of us is going to accomplish what we need to if we don't get a proper amount of rest."

Merlin didn't look happy but nodded, following the king up the stairs away from the dungeons, the golden footprints fading away as his spell slowly disappeared into the void.

* * *

 **Merlin remembers! We'll see more vulnerable sides of him in the future. I hope you guys like that. Also, yes, I brought in Daegal because I LOVED his character even if he was only in one episode (Season 5, episode 8 The Hollow Queen); he died too fast in the canon! We'll see more of him in chapters to come. :) Please leave a review! I love hearing your thoughts!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Thanks for all the reviews everyone! This story now has over 200 of them and I appreciate every single one. Some of you are nervous that Merlin is going to turn into a crying mess at random moments. That's not going to happen. I'm envisioning his emotions to be a little rocky during certain situations - like when he's in need of reassurance - but these moments are not going to be frequent. Don't worry guys, he's still going to be the incredible, fearless warlock we all know and love when its needed. Okay, that being said, here we go with Chapter 15! If you like it, please leave a review! :)**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin**

* * *

15: To Let Go is to Grow

The people had been gathering since the third morning bell, the sun nearing its highest point in the sky as they stood in the now restored courtyard to await the words that would shortly be delivered by their beloved king. Arthur was in the hallway leading out to the balcony, his mind caught up in memory. So much had led to this moment. Soft footsteps interrupted his deep thoughts and Arthur looked up to a rather stunning sight.

Gliding towards him in a gown of soft lavender, her hair pulled away from her face but trailing down her back, was Guinevere. Silver thread embroidered her dress in floral patterns and delicate jewelry hung from her ears and neck. She may not yet be royalty but to Arthur she was a queen. Her countenance was shy as she stopped before him.

"My lord," she greeted, curtsying to him as her cheeks pleasantly flushed.

Arthur smiled at her lovingly. Taking her hand, he pressed his lips against her knuckles. "You look beautiful – every inch a queen."

"I'm not a queen yet," she nervously argued.

Arthur gently took her chin and kissed her. "You are to me."

"You know, you might want to save that for your wedding night."

Arthur grinned, his amusement reflected in Guinevere's eyes as he turned around. Merlin had finally arrived, standing in a rather handsome outfit consisting of dark trousers, a floor-length brown jacket, gray tunic, and golden yellow neckerchief. Arthur eyed the ensemble with an approving smile.

"I see that Rachel has been taking up my challenge," he said, fingering the dark yellow silk around Merlin's neck.

"You look very handsome, Merlin," Guinevere complimented while Merlin playfully swatted Arthur's hand away.

"Thanks, Gwen. You look lovely yourself."

Guinevere's cheeks darkened a little. "Thank you. It does feel a bit strange…"

"What? Wearing clothes that are worth more than everything you've ever owned?" Merlin asked. "Believe me, I know the feeling."

Arthur looked between his best friend and the love of his life with fondness. "The two of you might as well get used to it."

"It'll take some time," Guinevere warned.

Arthur kissed her hands again. "I'm willing to wait."

Merlin snorted. "What?" he defended when Arthur sent him a glare. "Patience has never really been your friend, Arthur."

"Not until I had to deal with a five year old warlock," Arthur rejoined, lightly punching Merlin in the arm. "Anyway, are you two ready?"

"Are you?" Merlin asked, sobering at once.

Arthur was a little nervous but he had faith in the plan they had made. Allowing the mantle of nobility to rest upon his shoulders, the king stood tall and met the gaze of his unofficial adviser. "I am. Shall we?"

He held out his hand and Guinevere took it, the two of them leading the way out onto the balcony with Merlin following close behind. The second they appeared, the crowd began to cheer. The noise slammed into the king and he found a large smile climbing his cheeks. He felt elated, happy; how could he not? He was surrounded by the people he loved and cherished and he could feel their love for him in kind. It was euphoric. Keeping one hand resting within Guinevere's, Arthur raised his other to calm the cheers. From here he could see several of his knights and even a few of the druids mingling with the masses.

"Thank you all for coming," Arthur said, his voice echoing throughout the courtyard below. "Much has been accomplished since our most recent battle against Morgana and her followers and there have also been many changes within our city. I am sure that it has not escaped anyone's attention that my manservant, Merlin, has magic."

Arthur gestured for Merlin to step forward. Merlin nervously did as asked though he was clearly uncomfortable as hundreds of eyes gazed upon him. He swallowed painfully, his form trembling slightly on Arthur's right.

"Just breathe, Merlin," Arthur whispered out of the corner of his mouth before returning his attention to the crowd.

"Merlin," he continued, "is not a sorcerer, however, but a _warlock_ – someone who was _born_ with magic. When I learned this, I asked myself 'how can it be right to condemn a man for something he did not choose? How can we persecute, reject, and even execute someone who has an ability they were born with?'

"My father was a great man but he was blinded by his hatred of sorcery because of an incident that broke his heart. Wounded and hurt, he began the Purge, eradicating a people who have become sorely misunderstood for more than two decades. I was raised to hate magic, to believe it was evil, but once I learned that my dearest most trusted friend had magic, I began to question everything I had been taught. Merlin is the most loyal man I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. His bravery, honor, and integrity far surpass my own. Countless times he has saved not only me but this city by using his magic in secret for years. Since the moment I met him he has been willing to sacrifice his life for me. I am truly humbled to have been blessed with such a friend and I now wish to award him for his constant service and his selfless heart."

Arthur glanced at Merlin who was blushing, his eyes on his boots. The king smiled. This was it; the big reveal. Softly clearing his throat, he made sure he had the people's full attention before announcing, "After careful deliberation, I have decided that magic is no longer banned in Camelot. And, in two weeks time, we will have a tournament -the first _magical_ tournament this city has ever seen- to celebrate!"

Several gasps escaped from the crowd and a dull muttering began as neighbor whispered to neighbor in hushed tones of disbelief and, in some cases, fear. Arthur did not let this deter him.

"I know there are many of you who have suffered at the hands of magic," he consoled. "I, myself, am among you. But, as I said before, we have also benefited greatly from its use. Magic is nothing but a tool. It can be used to create or it can be used to destroy. It all depends upon the wielder and their choices. This magical tournament will be a peace offering to all those who have suffered from the bigoted views of prejudice and fear – and as a personal apology from me for being so arrogant and ignorant in my beliefs. Any sorcerer may be allowed to participate and shall be rewarded openly at the conclusion of the event. I have entrusted Merlin to be the overseer of how magic will be used during the competition and have extended an invitation to the druids to help Gaius by using healing magic on any injured participants. And, at the conclusion of the contest, there will be a ceremony where I will bestow the honor and title of First Adviser to the King and Court Sorcerer to my brother in all but blood, Merlin Emrys."

There was a stunned silence and then the crowd erupted. Arthur was both surprised and pleased to hear that the people weren't voicing in protest but joy. Apparently what Merlin had said was true; like the knights, they had no qualms accepting the warlock because they had seen firsthand what he had done when reclaiming and restoring Camelot from Morgana's wrath. A huge, boyish grin stole over the king as he glanced at Merlin who was the epitome of humility. The warlock's head was bowed, his eyes shut tightly, a tear escaping from the corner. Arthur placed a comforting hand on Merlin's shoulder, applying a small amount of pressure. Merlin looked up at him, his wondrous blue eyes sparkling with wonderment and gratitude.

"Thank you, Arthur," he whispered, his voice catching in his throat.

Arthur smiled and nodded. Letting go of his warlock, he waved his hand again to silence the people. The cheering died down and Arthur shared a brief loving glance with Guinevere.

 _Now for the_ other _announcement,_ he thought, his heart leaping within his breast.

"While I am happy to announce Merlin's promotion, I have also called all of you here today to declare that I am to be wed! The tournament we will have to celebrate the return of magic will also commemorate my engagement to the love of my heart, Guinevere."

If the crowd had been excited before, they were beyond the realm of happiness now; the shouts and exclamations of joy were deafening, shaking the king's eardrums and even causing the glass windows to rattle somewhere behind him. Arthur's smile stretched from ear to ear, immensely grateful for the people's support of his choice to follow his heart rather than the laws and regulations of the past. Merlin was clapping along with the people in the courtyard, his grin reaching all the way up to his eyes. Guinevere started to laugh, tears of happiness falling down her face as she waved at the crowd below. Arthur allowed the jubilation to continue for a while longer before raising his hands to restore silence. After he'd gained it, his smile was still large, his heart utterly full.

"Thank you all for your support and your kindness," he said happily. "A king truly is nothing without his people. Please spread this good news abroad. We desire to welcome all with magic into the kingdom where they may join us in celebrating a new dawn that will hopefully bring both peace and prosperity to all. In two weeks time we shall celebrate these wonderful changes. Good day to you!"

He then left the balcony hand in hand with Guinevere, Merlin walking as an equal on his other side. The crowd erupted into even further cheers which carried down the corridor, lifting the king's heart even higher and nearly bringing tears to his eyes. He felt he'd taken the first step towards his destiny and with the love of his life on one side and the other half of his coin on the other, Arthur felt his confidence surge. More than ever, he felt he could accomplish his destiny to become the Once and Future King.

[][][]

That evening Arthur invited Merlin and the visiting druids to dine with him and the knights of the Round Table in the banquet hall. The former manservant fidgeted uncomfortably as he sat in the chair to Arthur's right, a heavy frown on his face.

"This feels wrong," he muttered quietly after a servant filled his goblet and placed a large portion of food before him. "Arthur, I shouldn't be sitting here. I should be the one serving you."

Arthur studied his friend with a curious brow. "Merlin, you're not my manservant anymore."

"Stop _saying_ that!" Merlin snapped, glaring at the king. At Arthur's surprised expression, he immediately apologized. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, "I'm just…"

A small smile started to climb Arthur's cheeks. "You're not jealous of Credence, are you?"

Merlin glanced up at the servant who was serving the king for the night, the older man standing submissively just a few paces away with a jug in his hand. "No," the warlock immediately denied.

Arthur stared at him with a slight frown.

"…maybe…" Merlin whispered so quietly Arthur barely heard him.

Compassion filled the king as he reached over to rest a comforting hand on his warlock's forearm. "Merlin, you have nothing to be jealous of."

"Yeah, I do," Merlin grumbled, "that's _my_ jug he's holding."

Arthur snorted. "You're upset because you're coveting a water jug?"

"A water jug whose contents belong solely to the king," Merlin replied testily. "I don't like the idea of someone else serving your food, Arthur. I'm afraid they won't be as thorough as I am when it comes to checking it."

"You mean you don't want anyone else to steal food off my plate?" Arthur teased.

"Arthur, I'm serious–" Merlin began.

"So am I," Arthur interrupted. "Did you know that any other servant would have been thrown in the stocks for stealing their master's meal?"

" _Arthur."_

The king sighed. Right, so no amount of bantering was going to lift the idiot's spirits. He'd have to take the consoling route then.

"Merlin, as grateful as I am that you care so deeply for me, I need you to trust that whoever will be my manservant after you will take care of me in that capacity. Besides, you weren't really just my manservant. It may be your title but you've always gone above and beyond the responsibilities of that position. Whoever the new manservant will be I know they'll never go to the same lengths that you have. And I know that for some strange idiotic reason you feel the need to serve me in order to be happy so I want to reassure you that you will still be in my service – you just won't be taking care of my laundry, delivering my meals, mucking out my stables, or polishing my armor."

Merlin frowned. "But… those things allow me to be at your side."

"Yes but I'm not usually with you when you're mucking out the stables, Merlin," Arthur pointed out. "As my adviser, it will require you to walk with me at all times, voicing your opinions openly instead of behind closed doors. You'll still accompany me on any missions I decide to venture, of course, because there's no way I'm going anywhere without my Court Sorcerer."

Merlin pushed his uneaten carrots around with his fork. "Will your new manservant be there too?"

Arthur thought it over before making a decision. "No," he stated. Merlin looked up, hope sparking in those remarkable blue eyes. Arthur's grin was large as he elaborated, "You're not going to get out of _all_ the work, _Mer_ lin. Why train the new manservant to set up camp, make dinner, or take care of the horses when you already know how to do all of that?"

His words produced the desired effect. A huge smile lifted Merlin's countenance, his eyes glistening with inner joy. "You mean that?" he asked, his voice thick with emotion.

"Every word."

Merlin laughed. "Trust you not to offer to help with any of the work. You know, setting up camp and making dinner is a full time job."

"If it's too much for you, I'm sure I can ask the new manservant to tag along–"

"No!" Merlin hastily cried. Seeing Arthur's triumphant grin, the warlock's cheeks flushed. "I mean, that won't be necessary," he muttered in a quieter tone. "I can handle it."

Arthur laughed, clapping Merlin on the shoulder.

"Prat," he muttered affectionately.

"Idiot," Arthur replied in a similar tone.

The two shared a smile before Arthur returned his attention to his plate. As he was cutting into a particularly large piece of venison, the king felt a pair of eyes on him. Looking up, he noticed Daegal studying him with a look of quiet contemplation. Having been caught, the young boy jumped and went back to his plate, his fork poking his potatoes, his countenance lost in thought. For the rest of the night, Arthur watched him out of the corner of his eye, noticing that Daegal seemed to be doing the same thing. Interesting…

The druids were more lighthearted and friendly than Arthur would have suspected. They even performed little acts of magic – a floating water jug here, a dancing pair of cutlery there – amusing not only the king but also the knights. At one point a particularly drunk Gwaine asked Merlin to regale them with some form of magic and, after a nudge of encouragement from Arthur, Merlin obliged.

With nothing more than a flash of his eyes, the warlock caused the torches to lose their fire, the flames twisting around in the air, gathering in one place. They then pulled away, forming fiery images of men who proceeded to fight in some epic fiery battle. Arthur watched in fascination as the silent story unfolded; each time a fire-man fell, they flew back towards the wall, reuniting with their torch and becoming nothing more than regular flame. The fight ended between two men, the one wearing a fiery cape running the one carrying an ax through with his sword. As the fallen warrior returned to its torch, the caped man turned to the king and bowed before he rejoined his own torch, transforming into the regular flickers of fire. There was silence and then the hall burst into applause, the druids not the only ones looking at Merlin with fascination.

"That was incredible Merlin!" Leon praised.

Merlin smiled sheepishly, taking a sip from his goblet. "Thanks Leon."

"The story was intriguing but I think it would have been better had there been a spoken tale involved," Arthur muttered teasingly, nudging Merlin in the side.

"There's no pleasing you sometimes," Merlin rejoined, nudging him back.

"Magic is amazing," Percival commented, eliciting a grin from several of the druids in their company.

Elyan nodded in agreement. "I think it would be good if the people were exposed to this. They might find the transition easier if they see firsthand that not all magic is destructive and oppressive."

"Merlin?" Arthur prompted, wanting to hear his thoughts.

The warlock shrugged. "I think it's a good idea but I also feel that a declaration of rules for magic users should be spread throughout the kingdom as soon as possible. Lifting the ban was the right thing to do, Arthur, but now we have to regulate just what kind of magic is acceptable in Camelot. We don't want people terrorizing others with magic that is inappropriate and detrimental. There should be punishments affixed for any who seek to do harm. We can't have sorcerers abusing their powers. It will give the people peace of mind to know that there is some form of control over how magic is used."

"I agree with you, Emrys," one of the druids replied.

Several others nodded as well.

Arthur, however, frowned. "While I understand what you're trying to say, Merlin, I'm worried about how magic users will react when we present the idea of punishments. They could become hostile."

"Then allow me to make the laws," Merlin offered.

Arthur considered this before nodding his consent. "Alright but how long would it take you to make them?"

"I can have them to you by tomorrow morning," Merlin replied seriously.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "So soon? Don't you need more time, Merlin?"

The warlock shook his head. "No. This is an issue that must be solved as quickly as possible."

Arthur sighed and said in a quieter tone, "Just don't overwork yourself, alright? I don't need you collapsing on me."

Merlin's eyes softened. "I won't, Arthur."

"See that you don't. I already worry about you more than I should," Arthur muttered, his cheeks slightly darkening.

He still became embarrassed sometimes, showing such open affection towards Merlin. He didn't want to appear weak in front of his men but he also never wanted to hide just how much the idiot meant to him. He knew Merlin was fragile right now, with his secret out in the open and dealing with the aftereffects of being a child, he _needed_ to be shown open affection and acceptance so Arthur was willing to give it; even if it made him uncomfortable at times. As long as it kept that smile on his warlock's face. For seeing Merlin happy was one of the things that truly mattered to him – because when Merlin was happy, so was he. And Merlin _was_ happy, his smile wide and his eyes bright as he gazed at his king.

"Thank you, Arthur. I promise I won't overexert myself. I've already been giving this a lot of thought. I'll have everything ready for you when I bring your breakfast tomorrow."

Arthur was about to argue that he could have another servant do that for him when he remembered how desperate Merlin was to remain his manservant. The loveable idiot; what was the harm in allowing him a few more days to hold the position? Forgetting that they were in front of a large gathering of druids and knights, Arthur smiled fondly and ruffled Merlin's hair.

"Don't be late," he gently warned.

"When am I ever?"

Arthur lightly scoffed, rolling his eyes. Again the king felt he was being watched and turned his attention away from Merlin to find the entire room observing them. Blushing bright red, Arthur coughed into his hand, deciding that perhaps now was a good time to take his leave.

Standing, he tried to regain some of his usual petulance. "I expect those laws to be on my desk tomorrow morning, Merlin. And if you're late, you're going in the stocks."

Merlin laughed lightly, seeing through Arthur's attempts to remain stoic immediately. "Whatever you say, your royal pratness."

Arthur tried to glare but there was no anger behind the emotion. Curse this man. He was turning the king of Camelot into a sentimental fool.

"Idiot," he muttered before making his way out of the room. He turned a corner sharper than he'd intended, running right into someone carrying a pile of freshly laundered clothes. "Sorry," he immediately apologized.

"No, that's alright – oh, Arthur."

"Guinevere?"

The former maid blushed, holding an unfolded dress in her hands. Arthur noted that she was back in her usual serving attire, her light blue dress accented with soft cream colored undertones.

"What are you doing?" he asked curiously.

"Laundry," she hedged, shrugging her shoulders.

"Guinevere, you don't need to do that anymore," Arthur gently chided. "You're no longer a servant. You're the betrothed of the king."

"I know," she sighed, "but it's hard to break a habit I've been doing my whole life."

Arthur frowned. "Guinevere, I know that by asking you to become my wife I was also silently asking you to change your lifestyle. That can't be an easy thing for you. I'm not saying that you have to change who you are but one thing I need you to learn is that having others serve you is not wrong. When you become queen you'll have different responsibilities that will require you to ask another for help. Perhaps, if you will allow it, we can find you a maidservant now, someone you can get to know so when you are queen you will already have a friend."

Guinevere shook her head stubbornly. "I don't need a maidservant, Arthur."

Arthur removed the dress from her fingers and let it drop gently to the ground. Holding both her hands, he squeezed them gently. "Guinevere, you've played the role of maidservant for many years to women of nobility. You know that you need one."

Guinevere's soft brown eyes fell down to her feet. "I don't want one," she whispered.

Eyebrows drawn together, Arthur hooked his finger under her chin and gently lifted it. "What are you afraid of?" he whispered.

Guinevere searched his concerned gaze. Her lip quivered slightly as she took an unsteady breath. "I don't want to get hurt."

"What do you mean?"

"I've already been betrayed once, Arthur. I don't want to develop a friendship with someone only to find out later that their only desire is to kill me."

"Morgana," Arthur muttered, finally understanding.

Guinevere nodded, her eyes slipping once more to the ground. Arthur enveloped her into a comforting embrace, kissing the top of her dark curls.

"That's not going to happen," he assured her.

"How do you know?"

"Because we'll have Merlin judge whoever she will be before we give her the position."

Guinevere chuckled. "Merlin always was a good judge of character."

"Exactly," Arthur smiled, kissing her forehead. "Don't worry, Guinevere. Merlin won't allow you to be waited upon by a traitor."

Guinevere let out a soft breath. "Alright but I want to choose my own servant for Merlin to judge; if that's alright?"

"Of course it is," Arthur smiled.

His betrothed nodded to herself. "I'll start looking tomorrow. Until I find someone, can I do things myself? Please?"

Her eyes, filled with silent pleading, melted his resolve. "Alright," Arthur sighed in defeat, "but don't procrastinate or I just might find someone for you."

Guinevere reached up and kissed his cheek. "Give me time, Arthur."

The king ran the pad of his thumb across the smooth surface of her cheek. "As you wish, my queen."

He then leaned in and kissed her.

[][][]

The next two weeks came and went faster than Arthur could have imagined and the city was charged with an undercurrent of excitement and slight anxiety for the magical tournament that was soon to commence. The news of the tournament had traveled into the neighboring kingdoms, intrigue causing several of Arthur's allies to travel to Camelot to see the event for themselves; Queen Annis, King Rodor and his daughter Mithian, Lord Godwyn, and King Bayard now occupied some of the rooms within the citadel. All of them were cordial to Merlin, treating him with respect – though Bayard was reluctant since it was Merlin who accused him of trying to poison Arthur several years ago. The royals also viewed Guinevere as they would an equal, the former maid performing her role of future queen beautifully as if she'd been royal all her life. Arthur was very proud of both Merlin and his bride-to-be. Though they sometimes dipped into the habits acquitted to servants, they were becoming bolder in the new roles their lives had taken.

Merlin had kept his word and posted laws throughout the city of what was accepted in the ways of magic, including the punishments affixed to any who dared break them. His rulings were kind and just, the worst possible punishment being death only if magic was used in an attempt to -or succeeding in- murdering another person. In the two weeks since the ban had been lifted, magic could be seen through the streets, several members of the lower town revealing themselves to possess small amounts of the gift that would aid them in every day chores. Druids had started selling their wares in the market, offering charms of protection and healing balms to cure common illness.

Merlin himself had made a habit of sitting in the courtyard and telling stories of previous adventures he'd had with the king, using magic to illustrate scenes with water, fire, and even scraps of multicolored parchment. His storytelling had become so famous that most of the courtyard would be full of anxious children and townsfolk an hour before he was even scheduled to appear. Arthur had even found several of the visiting royals among the people, listening and watching with curious eyes as magic was used to describe a daring adventure. The king would sometimes sit in, laughing and occasionally interrupting to tell _his_ version of the tale while Merlin supplied the effects. In the span of two weeks, Camelot had become happier than Arthur had ever known it to be.

It was the morning before the tournament and the king was _supposed_ to be reading over a missive from King Odin but he was too lost in thought concerning the wonderful changes of his kingdom. Munching on an apple, he stared at the parchment without really reading it, a contented smile lifting the corners of his lips. He was still in this state ten minutes later when the door to his chambers opened.

"Hello Merlin," he said without looking up.

"How did you know it was me?"

"You're the only one who doesn't knock, you idiot," he replied, smiling as he set Odin's missive aside. Noticing his friend's troubled expression, Arthur stood. "What's wrong?"

Merlin sighed. "We might have a problem," he confessed. "Gwen was in the lower town when she ran into a girl who asked to meet with you. Gwen says that she told her she overheard someone in the woods talking about sabotaging the tournament."

Arthur frowned. "I'll meet her at once."

Leaving his apple unfinished, the king left with his servant walking beside him, the two heading to the throne room where several councilmen and knights had already gathered. Guinevere stood near Arthur's throne next to the girl Merlin had mentioned. The king was immediately struck by her appearance; how could he not be? Red hair was an anomaly, the only person he'd known possessing it being Sir Pelleas, and this girl's trailed down her back stopping near her waist. Her form was thin, her torso long, and her skin a creamy white. Large green eyes the color of summer leapt from a softly curved face, her rounded nose and delicate cheeks sprinkled with a light dose of freckles. Her lips were a slight shade of pink, fuller on the bottom but not in an unattractive way. She wore a simple green dress with a brown braided belt.

"Your majesty," she greeted as Arthur turned to face her in front of his throne.

"What's your name?" Arthur asked.

"Adaline, your majesty," she said softly, curtsying to him. "Thank you for seeing me so promptly."

"I was informed that you may have overheard information concerning the upcoming tournament."

"I did, sire," she said, staring straight into his eyes.

Arthur was surprised. Normally when he faced those of lower rank, they kept their gaze averted. This girl was one of the few he'd met brave enough to hold her ground. The king found himself inwardly smiling in approval.

"Please tell us what you know," he invited.

"I was traveling towards the city when I overheard a small gathering of men," Adaline began, "they were speaking in hushed tones but I managed to catch some of their words. They plan to attack you during the tournament you are to host, sire."

"Did they say how they were going to do this?" Merlin asked before Arthur could.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear that part," Adaline answered. "I fear they may have discovered me. I ran before I could hear anything more."

"What you heard was enough," Arthur said. "Thank you for bringing this to our attention. Tell me, what brings you to Camelot?"

Adaline shuffled from one foot to the other. "Work, if I were honest, my lord."

Arthur shared a glance with Guinevere. The future queen smiled a little.

"Well, Adaline, I think we might be able to find something for you in the palace," he said. "For now, why don't you take one of our spare guest rooms as a reward for warning us of coming danger?"

"I wouldn't want to impose," the girl began.

"We insist," Guinevere interrupted, smiling kindly at her.

Adaline looked from Arthur to Guinevere before nodding her consent. "Thank you for your generosity, your majesty," she said, curtsying to him.

Arthur nodded, dismissing her. As she turned to follow Guinevere from the room, however, she tripped on the hem of her skirt. In a flash of blue, Merlin was beside her, grabbing her hand to steady her before she could fall.

"Oh, thank you," she muttered, flustered.

"My pleasure," Merlin smiled.

Adaline's cheeks filled with a light shade of pink as she let go of Merlin's hand and followed Guinevere from the room. Arthur watched the interaction with a slight smile, the girl's clumsiness reminding him of his warlock's.

"I was afraid you were going to trip and take her down with you," the king teased as Merlin walked back towards him, the nobles leaving the room.

"Contrary to what you may believe, I'm more graceful than that, Arthur," Merlin replied.

The king had to laugh because it was at that moment that Merlin tripped on the stair, steadying himself as he grabbed onto Arthur's throne.

"You were saying?" Arthur grinned.

"Dollophead," Merlin muttered.

"Arthur, what do you propose we do about what she told us?" Leon asked, interrupting before the banter could continue. "These men could be Morgana's sorcerers who escaped from the dungeons."

"Even if they are, there's no need to worry, Leon," Merlin consoled. "Not only have I enchanted Arthur's armor with enough protection spells to rival the skin of a dragon but he also will have Aithusa at his side. No harm will come to the king; I can assure you of that."

"Speaking of Aithusa, are you going to call for her today?" Arthur asked, suddenly frowning over the idea of a baby dragon becoming his temporary shadow.

"Yes, actually," Merlin said. "I thought about calling for her tonight since she's currently hunting with Kilgharrah somewhere in the mountains."

Arthur nodded in approval. The last thing he wanted was a hungry dragon trailing after him. "What about the tournament participants?"

"According to the innkeeper, thirteen have come," Gwaine answered.

"Thirteen?" Arthur repeated. "So few…"

"It's hardly a surprise, Arthur," said Merlin. "From what Iseldir's camp has told me, most of the sorcerers they've spoken to are still reluctant to reveal themselves within Camelot's lands."

"But I lifted the ban," he protested.

"Arthur, you have to give them time," Merlin consoled. "There are many out there who have been hiding all their lives. A fear you have had for years is a hard thing to banish. As you continue to embrace those with magic, the fear will dissipate and we will see more sorcerers openly using their abilities within Camelot. Just be patient and watch the fruits unfold in their own due season."

"I hate when you compare things to trees, Merlin," Arthur grumbled.

The warlock shrugged. "Trees are the perfect example of patience, sire."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll forget my concerns on the matter for now and focus on the sorcerers who _have_ come. I know they are reluctant to stay in the citadel but I want rooms made to accommodate them should they change their mind once the tournament has started. Merlin, could you see that they are given rooms near where the druids are staying? Perhaps being close to those of their own kind will put them at ease."

"I'll make sure it gets done," Merlin answered. "May I also go see them? Perhaps if I personally invited them to stay in the castle it will be better received than hearsay."

Arthur nodded. "That'll be fine. Tristan, go with him."

Merlin scowled. "Arthur, I'm perfectly capable of going to visit the sorcerers myself."

"I know you are, Merlin, but Tristan has a knack for reading people's intentions," Arthur said.

The former smuggler took Merlin's shoulder. "Come on then, Merlin. Perhaps while we're down there we can grab a drink."

"I don't drink, Tristan, you know that."

"Too bad," Gwaine sighed, "I'd love to see what kind of magic Merlin would do when drunk."

"You'll have to save it for fantasy, Gwaine," Arthur stated. He himself would hate to see what Merlin could do, since the warlock had more power in his pinky finger than most sorcerers had in their whole body. "Instead I want you and the others to oversee the last of the preparations for the tournament."

"Do we have to?" Gwaine complained.

"I'll give you the rest of the ale I've been saving," Percival offered.

Gwaine's demeanor changed in a flash. "What are we waiting for? Let's go!"

Arthur watched with slight amusement as the other knights left the room, Isolde catching his eye and smiling before she followed the others out. The king sighed. He had half an hour before he was to meet with King Rodor and his daughter to discuss the disputed lands of Gedreth – again.

Deciding to go for a walk, Arthur left the throne room and wandered towards the battlements, his thoughts preoccupied with silent worry over the tournament. Five minutes later he was leaning against the solid stone wall that gave a perfect view of his kingdom, letting out a deep sigh as he watched the people toil away in their daily exchanges.

Someone suddenly cleared their throat behind him and Arthur spun around. Standing in a simple cream tunic under a brown vest and trousers was someone the king hadn't been expecting.

"Sorry," Daegal said apologetically, "I didn't mean to startle you."

"I wasn't startled," Arthur stubbornly denied.

"Right," Daegal grinned.

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Was there something you wanted?"

The young man cleared his throat again, realizing he'd probably stepped out of bounds. "Erm, actually… there was," he muttered, rubbing the back of his head.

Arthur raised a curious brow, waiting expectantly.

"Iwabmnsrnt."

The words had flown from the boy's mouth so fast that Arthur couldn't understand them. "Sorry?"

Daegal took a deep breath and tried again. "I want to be your manservant," he said, swallowing painfully.

Arthur stared.

"Why?" he asked, bewildered.

Daegal shuffled his feet uncertainly under the king's stare. The silence seemed to stretch between them before the young man gathered his courage, his shoulders squaring and his gaze lifting to meet the king's with an inner fire. Arthur silently approved of the sudden change.

"Look," Daegal began, "I know we got off on the wrong foot. I challenged your intentions but you can't blame me for doing so. Your father killed my mother because she was a magic user. The stories I heard told me that your view towards magic was no different. Even when you came into the druid camp saying that you had changed and accepted magic, I didn't believe you. I went with the other druids because I needed to know if you were lying or not. Since being here, I've seen how you treat them but more specifically I've seen how you treat Merlin. The two of you are like brothers. I've watched you and I confess I've eavesdropped on several of your conversations. I know you're in need of a new manservant since you're promoting Merlin soon.

"I might not have much to offer. I'm not as good as Merlin and I don't have magic. But most of my life I've wondered exactly what my purpose is. I haven't done much good, having to run around and do things for lesser men in order to survive. I want to change that and I feel like I can by serving a good man. You've earned my respect and I pledge myself to you. Now it's up to you whether to take my service or not."

Arthur stared at the young man, noting his determination as well as his silent fear of being rejected. A similar defiance sparked in those hazel eyes to those of his current manservant, the frown challenging him. Arthur smirked.

"Come with me," he stated, walking down from the battlements.

Daegal, though confused, obeyed, walking just behind Arthur as the king made his way down to the armory. Grabbing a shield and helmet, Arthur passed them both to the boy before indicating for him to follow him out onto the training field. It was abandoned at the moment; the knights were off to lunch, leaving the area open for his use.

Turning to face Daegal, Arthur unsheathed his sword and swished it around, dropping into a fighting stance. "You might want to put the helmet on," he said.

Daegal's eyes widened and he fumbled with the item before placing it on his head. "Now what?" he asked nervously.

"Defend yourself," Arthur stated before lunging towards him.

Daegal raised the shield just before Arthur's sword could slam into the wooden surface. The king made sure not to strike too hard; he didn't want the poor fool to fall over or anything. Daegal surprisingly stood his ground.

"Are you insane?" he shouted from out of the helmet.

"Perhaps," Arthur grinned before lunging again.

Daegal braced himself, holding his stance as Arthur pounded a little harder into the shield. When the blows began to get heavy, the boy started backing up a few paces, the king advancing on him repeatedly, not giving him any reprieve. One particularly violent blow caused Daegal to lose his footing and he toppled backwards, falling on his back and letting out a groan.

Arthur smirked, immediately stopping his assault. Standing over Daegal, he grinned. "You stayed on your feet longer than I thought you would."

"Yeah?" Daegal gasped, his chest heaving and sweat dripping off his forehead. "Well, I'm full of surprises."

"Apparently," Arthur laughed, holding out a hand. Daegal took it and the king lifted him to his feet before sheathing his sword.

"What was that about anyway?" Daegal demanded, wiping his brow with the back of his sleeve.

Arthur placed his hands on his hips, surveying the lad. "Right," he nodded after a moment, "I expect my dinner to arrive in my chambers just before sunset. Until then you can straighten my room, polish my armor, and rub down my horses."

Daegal's eyes widened. "What?"

Arthur walked away a few paces before looking over his shoulder. The boy was still standing there, flummoxed. "Well? Don't just stand there like a startled stoat. The chores aren't going to do themselves you know."

And without a backward glance, Arthur walked off into the armory, a large grin on his face. Someone cleared their throat to his left and Arthur found himself face to face with Merlin.

"Ah," he said, noting the warlock's raised eyebrow. "Merlin, what brings you here?"

The warlock's frown stayed a moment more before transforming into a grin. "I suppose you want me to train him then?"

Arthur's anxiety lifted as he let out the breath he'd been unconsciously holding. "You're not mad?"

Merlin's grin widened. "No, Arthur. I'm pleased."

"You are?"

The warlock chuckled. "I've suspected for a while, actually. You were impressed with Daegal from the moment you met him. He's stubborn, truehearted, brave, and honest."

Arthur studied Merlin carefully. "Do you trust him?"

Merlin looked out at the boy who was now staring at the helmet in his hands, a look of utter surprise on his face. "I do," he said a second later. "He's a good man, Arthur."

"He'll never replace you, you know," Arthur began, taking a step closer to the warlock.

Merlin's eyes softened as did his smile. "I know," he muttered. He looked up at Arthur, affection in his gaze and amusement lifting the corners of his mouth, "nobody can be as bad as I was."

Arthur laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. "See that you teach him properly, Merlin. He may not be able to be the worst servant in the five kingdoms but he can be the _second_ worst."

"You mean you don't want George to train him? He's the best servant in the castle."

Arthur grimaced. "Good heavens, don't even joke about that. The last thing I need is another bootlicker at my beckon call. I'm serious, Merlin; train him right or else I'll have you both thrown in the stocks."

Merlin laughed lightly before stooping into a mock bow. "I'll see that he's almost as incapable as I am, _my lord."_

Arthur flicked his ear affectionately. "Get to it then, idiot. I have a meeting with Rodor to attend to and you have a manservant to train. I expect you to train him along with performing your other duties during the tournament."

Merlin scowled. "Do you know how much pressure I'm already under? And you want to add to it?"

Arthur smirked. "What's the matter, Merlin? Are you not capable of doing it?"

"I'm capable of doing a lot of things," Merlin rejoined, "putting up with you being my greatest achievement."

Arthur's eyes sparkled with delight as he lightly punched the warlock in the arm before leaving the armory. "Idiot," he said over his shoulder.

"Prat!"

The response was affectionately shouted at his back, causing the king's smile to remain on his face all the way to the council room where Rodor and Mithian were waiting.


	16. Chapter 16

**Thank you for all the reviews from the last chapter! It seems that, for the most part, you guys like Adaline. That makes me happy. Now as to whether she's good or bad... well, you're just going to have to wait and find out. I'm glad you guys liked Daegal becoming Arthur's new manservant. :) He's becoming a rather fun character to write. And now, here's the chapter a lot of you have been patiently waiting for. The title says it all.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or Disney**

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16: The Tournament Begins

The people had assembled, the trumpets had sounded, and Arthur was walking hand in hand with his betrothed towards the royal box. Behind them trailed Adaline, wearing her light green dress, and Daegal, wearing a pair of trousers, a light blue tunic, and a brown vest. Merlin would have been with them but he'd mysteriously told Arthur over breakfast that he was going to 'make an entrance'. Arthur had rolled his eyes, scoffing over Merlin's desire to be dramatic, but he was silently looking forward to how the warlock would appear. It was therefore Aithusa who walked behind Daegal, her head held high in regality, carrying herself with the nobility of her race. Her presence made several people on edge, the guards clutching their spears a little tighter than necessary as the procession passed.

Arthur nodded to the other royals who were already sitting on either side of the empty chairs reserved for him and Guinevere. Adaline smiled at him before taking her place behind the future queen. The two girls had connected immediately and Arthur found himself grinning at their budding friendship. Daegal stood behind Arthur, his eyes trained on the empty arena. Arthur had to hand it to Merlin; he'd given the kid a good first lesson. Daegal had been late waking him, had thrown open the curtains and shouted at him to get up, and managed to bungle getting him into his armor, chattering the whole time he did so. Arthur felt it was the start of a good relationship. Aithusa curled herself around the king's throne, her head level with Arthur's arm on his right side. The king unconsciously reached over and patted her scales. The dragon chirped in response.

"Where's Merlin?" Guinevere quietly asked, looking around.

"I don't know but he's making the crowd restless," Arthur muttered, feeling all the eyes waiting expectantly for him to start. "Late as usual, the idiot."

Right after the words left his mouth there was a clap of thunder followed by the flash of a bolt of lightning right in the middle of the arena. Many people cried out in alarm, shielding their eyes. Arthur's hand unconsciously curled around Excalibur's hilt, his body tense for attack, his knights reacting similarly. The light died away and in the middle of the arena stood Merlin. Arthur instantly relaxed, shaking his head in exasperation as a grin lit his face.

Merlin wore an outfit befitting royalty, his bright blue tunic hidden under a black vest decorated in silver fastenings. The blue cape around his shoulders was hemmed with looping patterns, the material covering his arms sporting a silver version of the famous Pendragon crest.

Holding one arm away from his body while the other rested against his waist, Merlin bowed to the king before grinning widely and addressing the now rather excited crowd.

"Welcome," he cried in a jubilant voice, "to the first magical tournament of Camelot! We are honored by the presence of our allies, Queen Annis of Caerleon, King Rodor and Princess Mithian of Nemeth, King Bayard of Mercia, and Lord Godwyn of Gawant. We also would like to recognize our future queen, Guinevere, whom we dedicate this tournament towards, along with our beloved king, Arthur Pendragon!"

There was a loud cheer from the crowd, many people waving flags in the famous Camelot colors of red and gold. Arthur smiled, waving at his people before nodding for Merlin to continue.

The warlock inclined his head and threw his arm out towards the entrance to the arena. "People of Camelot," he shouted with fanfare, "your competitors!"

Arthur didn't know what he was expecting but he certainly wasn't the only one surprised to see the vast differences of those who were going to compete. The magic users who entered the arena were both men and women alike, some older, some not even out of their teen years. The most surprising was a woman no taller than five feet, her long brown hair held in a tight braid over her shoulder, her countenance one of innocence. One of the younger men Arthur was surprised to faintly recognize. He was the champion in a previous competition who fought and lost against his father several years ago. Arthur frowned. The man had magic and he'd competed in a regular contest? He made a mental note to ask Merlin about him later.

"Sorcerers," Merlin continued, "each of you have bravely answered the call to participate in this tournament. You are making history, my friends, for this contest marks the beginning of a new time. The winner of this event will receive a thousand gold pieces and be crowned Camelot's first magical champion. As previously explained to you, the rules are similar to that of the knight's code except death will not be the determined factor of the match. You will be the victor when your opponent is no longer able to continue casting spells against you. Our court physician and druid volunteers will heal any wounds sustained and I will monitor each match to ensure that no foul play is performed. To protect your audience from any misaimed spells, a protective barrier has been set in place so be careful of what you fling towards the walls; they might ricochet back towards you. You are free to use magical tools only if they have been preapproved by me to aid you in your battles. The different colored armbands you wear will be used to identify and determine who you fight against in a match."

Merlin turned back to Arthur and bowed. "And now, with Your Majesty's permission, we will start with the Lady Kara versus Lord Aarav."

Arthur grinned eagerly. "Permission granted."

The other sorcerers left the arena except for Lady Kara, a sorceress with dark curly locks, and Lord Aarav, a man sporting short black hair and remarkably tanned skin. Arthur unconsciously leaned forward, waiting to see who would strike first. Merlin walked to the edge of the arena, his eyes trained on the two who were about to duel. Aarav bowed low to Kara who curtsied back.

"Begin!" Merlin shouted.

Kara obliged immediately, her eyes lighting up with gold as she transformed the sand under Aarav's feet into water. The man dropped into the constructed pool like a stone, his head going under. Kara, not waiting for him to emerge, turned the surface to ice and Arthur wasn't the only one on his feet in concern. But the ice shattered a second later as Aarav broke the surface with a surge of magic, sending ice shards flying towards the crowd. Many people screamed and flinched away but the ice impacted the invisible protective barrier Merlin had formed, the projectiles disintegrating the second they made contact.

Arthur sat back down in relief as he watched a now dripping Aarav use the water around him like a whip, slamming it into an energy shield Kara had erected with a flare of her eyes. The king chanced a glance at Merlin who seemed to be highly enjoying himself, his eyes bright and a grin on his face as he watched the two's magic at work. Arthur turned his attention back on the match just in time to see Kara throw up the sand in a solid defensive wall, molding it so it curled around in an arch and blocked her from Aarav's view. The contraption grew until it ran the length of most of the arena, almost like the beginnings of a maze. Kara couldn't be seen and Arthur was about to question where she went when she suddenly appeared behind Aarav, her wall sinking back into the ground except for a small piece which she quickly transformed into rope. It snaked around Aarav's wrists, ankles, and mouth in a matter of seconds and the sorcerer's eyes were wide in comical surprise as Kara pushed him to his knees, standing over him with her hands raised.

There was a stunned silence and then the crowd erupted, Arthur clapping just as hard as everyone else. Kara released Aarav from his bonds and held out a hand. The sorcerer took it with a grin and the two stood, bowing to each other before waving to the crowd. Merlin stepped forward, congratulating them both.

"Well done!" he shouted, just loud enough for everyone to hear. "Kara will advance while we invite Aarav to stay for the rest of the tournament and participate in the feast to be held later this evening for all of our competitors."

"I accept the invitation, Lord Emrys," Aarav said with a bow to the warlock. "Thank you for this opportunity."

Kara then surprised the crowd by conjuring a rose which she then presented to Guinevere. "A flower for our future queen," she said with a smile.

Guinevere accepted it with sheepish appreciation. "Thank you."

Kara curtsied to her before she and Aarav left the arena.

The next match was fought between two men, one called Balthazar, the other Maxim. They seemed to be good friends since they teased each other back and forth while performing spells. Balthazar wore a large black coat which he used as a shield to protect himself when Maxim threw thousands of transfigured knives in his direction. Arthur noticed Merlin step forward a little when the knives were being thrown but relaxed when Balthazar's coat deflected the tiny blades like a shield. Balthazar then transfigured the knives into hundreds of harmless butterflies and Maxim, distracted by the display, was unprepared as his opponent made a hole in the butterfly mass, sending a blue bolt of magical energy straight into his chest. The portly man fell backward, slamming into the wall and crumbling in an unconscious heap. Merlin immediately left his post to run to Maxim's side. Many in the crowd were standing up in concern.

"Is he alright?" Arthur called as Merlin examined the downed sorcerer.

The warlock turned Maxim over and, after a tense moment, let out a sigh. "He's fine. Not even a mark on him." He turned to Balthazar. "You disguised a sleeping spell?"

Balthazar tucked a strand of his long wavy hair behind an ear and smirked. "I thought it would be a clever trick."

Merlin let out a laugh. "You'll have to teach me that one."

"He's asleep?" Gwaine inquired, surprised.

"Yep," Merlin answered. "Balthazar's the winner!"

Relieved that he hadn't just witnessed a death, Arthur relaxed his shoulders as he clapped along with the crowd.

"That was one surprising display," he commented to Guinevere.

"Indeed," she answered, sounding just as relieved as he felt.

Balthazar then approached them and conjured a rose the same as Kara had, offering it to Guinevere with a smile. "My lady," he bowed as she accepted the bloom.

"Thank you," Guinevere hesitantly smiled, still slightly shocked by the manner of his victory.

Arthur was also a little unnerved. The spell had looked deadly but turned out to be the opposite. The king didn't really know how he felt about Balthazar's tactics. His victory over Maxim had been deceptive but strategic. The man didn't appear suspicious but then Arthur had come across plenty of men before that had been more than what they seemed. He made a silent note to keep an eye on Balthazar before returning his attentions to the arena.

At this point the crowd was full of eager anticipation to see the next fight. Merlin, however, seemed to be the exact opposite. Arthur was confused as to why until he heard the name of one of the men Merlin had to announce.

"Our next competitors will be Liam of Mercia and Mordred of the druids."

"Mordred?!" Arthur cried in dismay, his shout heard only by Guinevere due to the loud cheering from the crowd.

"Arthur?" she prompted.

Arthur met Merlin's concerned gaze. When the warlock had confessed all, he'd told of the young druid boy whom Kilgharrah had warned would one day bring about the king's end. Arthur had found it surprising that such a thing would come to pass after he'd saved the boy's life but when Merlin told him of Mordred's involvement during the time they'd stormed the druid camp that had stolen the crystal of Neahtid, Arthur began to fear he'd helped instigate Destiny. As he watched the young man walk into the arena, he couldn't help the slight sliver of fear that ran down his spine. Mordred had grown quite a bit. Though he was still very much a boy, he was flowering into adulthood. But he didn't look like a killer; besides the narrowed glare he sent towards Merlin, the young man appeared harmless.

Arthur threaded his fingers together, watching the druid with narrowed eyes. He didn't want to draw to conclusions but he wasn't about to dismiss Merlin's warnings concerning the lad. He unconsciously placed a hand on Aithusa's head and she growled slightly in what Arthur assumed was protection. The blue eyed white dragon was tense, her body poised on full alert, her gaze fixed on the druid as if he were the enemy.

"Arthur," Guinevere repeated, "are you alright?"

Arthur glanced at her, touched by her worried gaze. "I'll be fine," he assured.

Guinevere glanced at the druid who was now facing off against his opponent. "Do you know him?"

"Perhaps," the king muttered. "I'll explain later."

Guinevere cast one last look of concern before nodding. "Alright."

Mordred's match against Liam was a remarkably short one. With a single flash of gold and a stream of words, the ground in the arena shook like a fully fledged earthquake, knocking Liam off his feet. Merlin remained standing only because he'd created his own shield around himself, preventing Mordred's spell from affecting the earth beneath his feet. The second Liam connected with the ground, it ceased to quake. Mordred then wasted no time commanding the sand to loop around Liam's limps and mouth. With one last spell, he transfigured the sand into solid rock, locking the sorcerer in place with the floor.

From the alarmed expression on Merlin's face, Arthur had a feeling that Mordred's display of magic was something the warlock found both surprising and threatening. Trying to remain jovial, Merlin declared Mordred the winner and the stunned crowd erupted into excited cheers. Mordred released Liam immediately, helping the winded sorcerer to his feet, before procuring a rose which he then presented to Guinevere.

"My lady," he greeted, holding the rose out to her while the crowd continued to cheer wildly over his swift victory.

"Thank you," Guinevere said, accepting the gift.

Mordred nodded to her before turning to Arthur and bowing low to him. "You may not remember me, my lord," he said as he straightened.

"I remember you, Mordred," Arthur replied, feeling Aithusa tense by his side.

Mordred glanced at the dragon before looking back at the king. "Thank you for saving my life all those years ago and for restoring magic to the land."

"You're welcome," Arthur cordially responded. "Thank you for participating in our tournament."

"It is an honor, sire," Mordred said with an incline of his head and a smile. "Forgive me, I do not wish to keep you. Please excuse me."

Arthur nodded and watched him go, noticing Merlin glare at the young man until he was out of sight. They were definitely going to need to talk after the matches today. Speaking of, there was only one left. Merlin called forth the short sorceress with the long brown hair secured in a braid. Her name was Elliani and she looked like a simple peasant compared to her opponent, Massaro, a man Arthur would deem as a bloodthirsty mercenary were it not for his kind countenance. Even Merlin looked slightly concerned for Elliani as he waved for the match to begin.

Massaro pulled a piece of cloth from his belt and whispered a spell causing the fabric to snap and coil onto the ground like a snake. It slithered across the sand towards Elliani who watched it come with wide eyes. The cloth-snake appeared to be aiming for her ankles but right before it could strike, the tiny sorceress shouted out a spell and a root erupted from the ground, ensnaring the fabric and dragging it down into the earth. Massaro's face slackened from its grin, the man completely surprised that his precious fabric now seemed to be lost forever.

"Sorry," Elliani apologized, her voice regretful, "I'll give it back when we're done, I promise."

Arthur was then shocked as hundreds of roots sprung up from the ground under Elliani's command, racing towards Massaro and wrapping around his body from his ankles all the way up to his mouth. The sorcerer lost his balance and started falling backwards.

"Oh _, sorry!"_ Elliani shouted, throwing out her hands and causing more roots to sprout up from behind, pushing her opponent forward. "Oops," the sorceress muttered as the poor man started tilting forward. Another flash of her eyes and a muttered spell commanded another round of roots to steady the poor fellow before he could fall on his face.

There was a round of laughter from the crowd, Arthur joining in. It was a rather comical display, after all, seeing a monster of a man at the mercy of one so small. Elliani, still commanding the roots so as not to drop Massaro on the ground, bit her lip.

"Sorry," she said again.

Chuckling, Merlin stepped forward. "Massaro, do you yield?"

The man gruffly nodded, embarrassed by the situation he'd found himself in.

"Elliani is the winner!" Merlin declared.

The crowd applauded, surprised by the young lass and her victory. Elliani blushed as she released Massaro from her roots. The man rubbed his chest after regaining his balance, appearing winded. The young sorceress approached him and handed back the stripe of cloth she'd taken earlier, as promised. Then, like the others, she headed towards the royals and presented Guinevere with a flower.

"My lady," she smiled, her brown eyes lighting up with happiness.

"Thank you," said Guinevere, reaching forward and taking the rose. "Your magic was rather… surprising."

"Thank you, my lady," Elliani replied. "I'm not good with most spells but roots seem to be my friend."

"Well, you are most certainly skilled in commanding them," Arthur commented with a chuckle.

"You're too kind, my lord," she said, blushing deeply as she curtsied. "Please, excuse me."

As she walked away, Merlin caught Arthur's eye and the two shared a smile before the warlock addressed the crowd.

"Thank you all for attending the start of this tournament," he said after the cheering had died away. "We ask everyone to return tomorrow when the matches will resume after the noon bell. We extend an invitation to our competitors to join us at the castle this evening for a celebratory feast. Good day to you all!"

Arthur stood as Merlin made his way towards him, his blue cape billowing behind as his long legs covered the distance in a short amount of time. Aithusa chirped happily, her large neck reaching out to meet her dragonlord over the wooden barrier. Merlin smiled, stroking her scales in welcome.

"Well done, Aithusa," he muttered, resting his forehead against hers. "Thank you for keeping Arthur safe for me."

The white dragon rubbed her head against his cheek before pulling back. The visiting royals witnessed the exchange and Annis was the first to voice her thoughts concerning the beast they'd sat so close to.

"I'm surprised you allowed a dragon to accompany you after what happened to your city a few years ago, Arthur," she commented.

"I've recently learned many things, Annis," Arthur replied, stroking Aithusa's head, "one of them being that dragons are severely misunderstood creatures of the Old Religion. Kilgharrah, the Great Dragon, was blinded by rage when he attacked Camelot. He acted out of revenge because my father killed the rest of his race."

"If that were so then how do you explain this little one?" Godwyn asked, hesitantly pointing at Aithusa.

"I called her out of her egg," Merlin answered, "after rescuing her from the tomb of Ashkanar."

"You _called_ her?" Mithian questioned.

"Only a dragonlord can bring a dragon into the world," Merlin elaborated, rubbing Aithusa's neck. "I am the last one left, having inherited the power when my father died."

"So you can command this beast?" asked King Bayard in disbelief.

"If I need to," Merlin stated, "but I would never abuse my power. Aithusa and Kilgharrah are kin to me. The three of us are the last and I would never intentionally do anything to betray their trust."

Aithusa chirped, flapping her wings a little before she unexpectedly dived over the barrier into Merlin's chest. The dragonlord fell to the ground with a grunt, Aithusa smothering him while the royals cried out in alarm.

"He's fine," Arthur assured them, laughing. "This is just how Aithusa shows affection."

"Aithusa," Merlin grunted, "I can't – _breathe!"_

The dragon let out a small playful growl before scrambling off of him. Merlin pushed himself to his feet, his clothing now covered in dirt.

"You're a little dirty, Merlin," Arthur smirked.

"Why don't you come down and join me then? You look a little too pristine up there," Merlin grinned back.

"And make it so Daegal has to draw water for a bath? I think I'll stay right here where it's safe, thanks."

"You know, I could have Aithusa drag you down here."

"Only if you want to end up in the stocks."

"Listen to the two of you," Guinevere chided. "There are more important things to worry about than threatening to make the other dirty. We have a feast to prepare for, remember? We should be heading back up to the castle."

"Right," Arthur agreed as Merlin pushed Aithusa's head away before she could start chewing on his cape. "Shall we?" he said, addressing the other amused royals.

The noble procession made their way back to the citadel, Aithusa slithering happily in the king's shadow. The conversation focused solely on the battles everyone had witnessed, the visiting royals all rather impressed with the tactics the participants had used.

"Why are you not competing, Merlin?" asked Annis as their group crossed the courtyard.

"Oh, um, I don't think it would be fair," Merlin hedged. "Besides, someone has to make sure the contestants are keeping the rules."

"You make it sound like you are more powerful than the others," Godwyn voiced.

Merlin shrugged. "I can hold my own."

Arthur smiled. Such modesty. The other sorcerers were impressive but the king had no doubts that his warlock could outmatch all of them easily. Once they reached the inside of the castle, Arthur bade goodbye to the allies so they could prepare themselves for the evening feast. He, Merlin, and Guinevere then continued down the hall towards the king's chambers. Daegal and Adaline followed silently behind them, Aithusa bringing up the rear. Once the six of them were inside Arthur's room with the door shut, the king turned to face the warlock.

"Alright, Merlin, care to tell me why Mordred has decided to join the tournament?"

"Is he the one you recognized earlier?" Guinevere asked. "Who is he?"

"Do you remember the druid boy we hid in Morgana's chambers years ago?" Merlin asked.

Guinevere gasped. "That's him?"

Merlin nodded. "And according to Kilgharrah, he's destined to kill Arthur."

"What?!" Guinevere cried, shocked. "You don't think he's here to do that?"

Arthur shrugged before turning to Adaline. "I know you overheard someone plotting to kill me during this tournament. Did you recognize Mordred's voice at all?"

Adaline shook her head, her red hair surrounding most of her face. "No, sire. I don't believe he was in on that particular plot."

Arthur frowned. "I was hoping you wouldn't say that. Well, even if there is someone else intending to kill me, I want to know what Mordred's motives are. Why is he here?"

"He seemed genuine when he thanked you for lifting the ban," Guinevere commented. "I didn't detect any hostility from him."

"Aithusa did," Arthur countered. "She tensed the moment he approached us."

"That was my fault," Merlin revealed. "I whispered in the dragon tongue for her to be wary of him and to protect you should he try anything."

Arthur frowned, looking down at the dragon who nodded in confirmation.

"Well since we're all voicing our opinions, I feel the same way as Gwen," said Daegal. "I didn't sense anything sinister about him."

The king sighed. "What do you think, Merlin?"

The warlock frowned, sitting down at the table and rubbing his tired eyes. "I don't know. The history between Mordred and me is not altogether pleasant. I don't like him being here in Camelot but until he does something…" – Merlin sighed, shaking his head – "The only thing I can do is keep an eye on him and ask Kilgharrah what he thinks about him being here."

"You don't have to do that alone, Merlin," Arthur countered. "I'll go with you to talk to Kilgharrah and the knights can watch over Mordred as well."

"You need the help," Guinevere said before Merlin could protest. "You've got a lot on your shoulders as it is."

Merlin sighed. "Alright, but we don't want Mordred to become suspicious. If he is up to something, we'll want to catch him unawares."

"Agreed," Arthur muttered. He looked at both Daegal and Adaline, frowning slightly. He trusted Merlin and Guinevere to keep their silence on the matter but these two… he was fairly certain Daegal wouldn't betray him but he knew next to nothing about Adaline. What if she was secretly in league with Mordred? It wouldn't be the first time someone had tried to slip into the court in order to betray his secrets to his enemies. Arthur suddenly felt foolish for speaking so openly when someone he hardly knew was in the room.

"I hope each of you understands that what we discussed just now stays between us."

"I'm not going to say anything!" Daegal said indignantly, slightly hurt that Arthur would question him.

Adaline hadn't even been looking at the king; her gaze instead was focused on Merlin, her green eyes drinking in his features with silent scrutiny. When the warlock looked her way, the young woman instantly averted her gaze.

"Adaline?" Guinevere prompted.

Startled, the redhead looked up. "Sorry, what?"

"Can we trust you not to repeat what we've been talking about?" Arthur said again.

The woman's eyes widened. "I would never share this with another, my lord," she firmly assured. "It is against my nature to disclose the secrets of others."

Arthur studied her a moment more but didn't detect any ill-will in her countenance. "Very well," he muttered. "We should all be getting on with other business. Guinevere, can I trust for you to make sure the feast is prepared accordingly?"

"Of course," Guinevere said, standing up.

She kissed Arthur on the cheek before leaving the room with Adaline trailing behind her. Arthur turned to Merlin only to find the warlock staring at Adaline's retreating back, his eyes slightly unfocused. Arthur raised a curious brow _._

"Merlin?"

The warlock didn't respond.

"Merlin?" Arthur tried again, poking the side of his head.

Merlin jumped. "What? Did you say something?"

Arthur smirked. "I did, actually, but you appeared to be distracted. Is there something you want to tell me?"

Merlin blinked, utterly bewildered. "What? No. Why do you ask?"

The king frowned. Maybe he was misreading things? He decided to let it go; for now. "Nevermind," he muttered. "Anyway, I was going to ask if you could continue instructing Daegal until the feast tonight. I don't want him embarrassing himself or me in front of our guests, royal and magical alike."

"Hey!" Daegal protested. "I won't embarrass myself!"

Arthur snorted. "I don't believe that for a second." Standing up, he smirked as he pushed past Daegal towards the door. "See that he knows proper etiquette, Merlin. Wait, you do know what that is, don't you?"

Merlin rolled his eyes. "In case it has escaped your attention, I've been waiting on your royal pratness for almost a decade. I think I know a thing or two of how to act accordingly in a dining scenario."

"One would hope," Arthur rejoined, "but given how clumsy you are…"

Merlin scowled before looking down at Aithusa. "You should go with Arthur, Aithusa. Knowing him, his life is bound to be in danger just by walking down the hall."

"I think you're mistaking my feet for your own, Merlin," Arthur chuckled as the dragon crossed the room towards him. "If anyone is going to die just from walking it'll be you."

"Prat," Merlin sighed though he was grinning.

"Idiot," Arthur smirked, holding the door open so Aithusa could slither out after him. "I have a short meeting with the council but I'll return in an hour. Make sure to have a hot bath ready for me."

"Shouldn't I be coming with you to that?" Merlin asked, raising an eyebrow.

Arthur shook his head. "Normally you would but this is just the standard one where the lords will discuss boring things about taxes and land disputes. Just because we're having a tournament doesn't mean I get to rest being a king."

"Ah," Merlin smiled, "so that's why you want a bath. The lords do have a tendency to cause you stress." He then turned to Daegal and loudly whispered, "Taking a bath is the only way he can relax so his hair doesn't turn prematurely gray."

Daegal snorted and Arthur, seizing upon the opportunity, grabbed a goblet from the small table next to the door and flung it at the warlock's head. Merlin expertly dodged – only due to years of practice – grinning at his sovereign with a mocking smirk.

Arthur scowled. "You'd better have that bath ready, Merlin!" he snapped before slamming the door shut. Looking down at Aithusa, he shook his head. "That dragonlord of yours is a complete idiot."

Aithusa looked up at him reproachfully.

Arthur's frown deepened before he sighed, giving in. "Alright, he's not that bad. Come on, you're coming with me to a council meeting. I warn you though, it's boring."

The dragon didn't look too thrilled but followed after the king anyway, servants and guards pressing against the walls in order to avoid hitting her wings or stepping on her tail. Arthur shook his head. What a sight he must be with a dragon following him! Never would he have believed such a spectacle would be seen in Camelot. Grinning slightly at what the lords reactions were going to be at the sight of his scaly friend, Arthur pushed the doors open to the council chamber and stepped inside, Aithusa wandering in behind him.

[][][]

Later that night, after the feast, Arthur and Merlin rode out of the city towards the clearing just east of the city to meet with Kilgharrah, the latter making sure their tracks were covered; Arthur didn't want to take any chances of them being followed. The night was cool, the symphony of crickets, owls, and the slight whistle of wind between leaves playing a soothing melody in Arthur's ears as he followed Merlin into the deeper part of the woods. When they were fairly close, the two dismounted and secured their horses before continuing on foot; they didn't want the dragon to spook the animals.

Reaching the clearing, the evening dew catching on the grass and the stars twinkling merrily in the heavens, Merlin threw his head back and let out the guttural cry only a dragonlord could make.

 _ **"O drakon, Kilgharrah, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!"**_

"You know, I don't think I'll ever get used to hearing that coming out of your mouth," Arthur commented. "Doesn't it hurt your throat?"

Merlin thought about it before shrugging. "Not really. It's kind of instinctive so it doesn't really bother me."

"Weird," the king muttered as he sat down in the grass to wait. Merlin selected his own patch of earth near the king and the two lay back to stare up at the night sky. "You did a good job today."

"Thanks," Merlin said, a smile in his voice.

"Tell me, the people who fought today, are they powerful?"

Arthur asked because, to him, they seemed to be. The king never knew that magic could be used in such a way. Most offensive spells he'd seen over the years involved an invisible force that knocked an opponent backward or enchanted weapons to fly through the air at the caster's bidding.

Merlin scratched the back of his head. "To me most of them are not."

"I know that, you idiot," Arthur said, rolling his eyes slightly while smiling. "Stop being conceited. It doesn't become you."

"I'm not being conceited! I'm being honest!"

"Sure, Merlin."

"Prat."

"Just answer the question. In the realm of sorcerers -excluding yourself- are they powerful?"

"Some of them are," the warlock immediately replied. "Elliani -the one who defeated Massaro with the roots- I didn't detect much magic in her. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if controlling plant life is the extent of her abilities. Then again, she seems to have a gentle soul, so she could be really good at healing. I'll have to ask Gaius what he thought of her, seeing as that was his field of expertise when he was learning the practice."

Arthur decided not to voice that while Merlin wasn't too concerned, he was fairly intimidated by someone who could command the earth to trap him in roots. "What about the others?" he asked instead.

"Balthazar and Maxim show great promise," Merlin smiled. "And Kara was quite formidable. Aarav, I believe, has more of a knowledge of magic than actual practice with it, but Mordred is the one I'm most concerned about. He's more powerful than all the others."

"But you could take him down," Arthur voiced, unable to hide his concern. How could he? According to Merlin the druid was supposed to kill him one day!

"He's almost as powerful as Morgana is, Arthur, and that's a rather daunting thought. I could probably destroy him but it would be a long battle and I'd rather avoid it if at all possible."

"So would I," Arthur grumbled. "Is there any way that we can arrest and banish him from Camelot?"

Merlin frowned. "Arthur, even if we did, do you think he'd stay away from the city if he was intent on killing you?"

The king sighed. "No," he muttered regretfully. "The only way he would is if he was a man of honor."

"And therein lies our problem." Merlin rubbed his face tiredly. "We don't even know what kind of man he is."

There was a loud beat of wings and the king and warlock sat up just as Kilgharrah appeared, circling over the tops of the surrounding trees before landing with a thud before them. Folding his great wings, the dragon shifted back and forth on his haunches before settling completely in the grass.

"Well, I see that Albion is well on its way to becoming a reality," he smiled, staring fondly between the warlock and the king.

"Except for the fact that at this very moment Mordred is within Camelot's walls," said Merlin bitterly.

Kilgharrah's eyes widened a little in surprise. "The druid boy has returned?"

"Yes," Arthur answered, "and according to Merlin you told him years ago that Mordred was destined to kill me. You can see why we're not celebrating."

Kilgharrah studied them a moment before letting out a reluctant sigh. "Things may no longer appear as I once believed them to be."

"What on earth is that supposed to mean?" Arthur demanded.

"Exactly as I said, young Pendragon," Kilgharrah smirked.

"Are you trying to say that Mordred's destiny has changed?" asked Merlin while Arthur growled in frustration.

 _Stupid cryptic dragon_ , the king inwardly grumbled, _what was so difficult about giving a straight answer?_

"None can escape their destiny, young warlock. I remember telling you this during our first meeting."

"Yes, before you then flew away, leaving me even more confused than I had been before," Merlin snapped. "If Mordred's destiny hasn't changed, then what are you hinting at?"

"Mordred's destiny remains, Merlin, but choices will dictate how it will come to pass. You must do what you feel in your heart should be done. Counsel together and make a decision. There will be two paths that you can take. Choose wisely for they will determine Arthur's fate."

And then the dragon left, lifting himself into the air with a great downward thrust of his wings, leaving Merlin and Arthur beyond confused with nothing but crickets for company.

"Right, Arthur groused, "if this is how the exchanges are always going to be, you can handle them on your own and report back to me what he says. What the heck was he even talking about anyway?"

Merlin folded his arms, a prominent frown on his face. "Let's think about this," he muttered.

"What's there to think about?" Arthur complained. "He didn't tell us anything!"

"Yes he did, Arthur, you're just incapable of solving cryptic messages."

Arthur scowled. "Alright, since _you_ seem to be such an expert, enlighten me; what exactly did he say?"

"Well, for one he confirmed to us that Mordred is still going to kill you some day."

"I gathered that," the king snapped sourly.

Ignoring Arthur's glare, Merlin continued, "But he also said that we have a choice to make, one that would decide your fate, and that there are only two options we can choose."

"And just what would those two choices be?" Arthur wondered, frustrated.

None of this made any sense to him. If Mordred was destined to eventually kill him, wouldn't it be better to try to kill him first? Wait, maybe that was one of the choices!

"Why don't we just kill him before he can kill me?" Arthur asked, voicing his thought.

Merlin frowned. "I don't think that will work, Arthur. Destinies are troublesome things and Kilgharrah is unfortunately right; you can't escape them. Even if we tried to kill Mordred ourselves, something would happen during the exchange where you would end up dying too."

"Wonderful," Arthur grumbled, "kill and be killed, or wait to have him murder me with open arms. Neither of these options sound very appealing, Merlin."

The warlock sent him a frustrated glare. "I don't like this any more than you do, Arthur. I would change all of it if I could but I can't!"

"Right, since the inevitable conclusion is death, let's not focus on the result. Instead we need to figure out what the two choices are that Kilgharrah was talking about."

"That's what I've been trying to do, clotpole!" Merlin snapped before he began to pace back and forth in the grass.

Arthur would have retorted but he could tell Merlin was concentrating really hard and, since it was important, the king decided to keep his silence.

"There are many ways a man can die," the warlock muttered, "but if we're limiting things down to two different options… hmmm… well, in the case of death, wouldn't it be what the _intentions_ were behind the murder?"

Arthur's eyebrows drew close together. "I'm afraid I'm not following."

"Intentions, Arthur," Merlin repeated, " _motivations_ – the reasons behind why a murder would occur."

"I understand that, you idiot, what I don't understand is what you're going on about murder having another motivation besides the desire to end life."

"That's just it though," the warlock countered, "it's all about _desire_. Do you believe, at this point, that Mordred _wants_ to kill you?"

Arthur thought it over, thinking of the earlier exchange he'd had with the young man during the tournament. "No," he finally said, "I don't."

"Are you sure?" Merlin pressed.

Arthur looked his best friend right in the eye and stated with all certainty, "No, Merlin, I don't. I felt no malicious intent from him when he thanked me for returning magic to the land nor did I feel any animosity from him during the feast."

Merlin bit the inside of his cheek. "Then there's our answer."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Don't you see, Arthur? Mordred has no desire to kill you but it's his destiny to do so," Merlin said. "We know what his destiny is but does he? Wouldn't he have shown a different emotion than gratitude today if he'd known the truth? You saved his life once and I don't believe he's forgotten that."

"But you told me that he held a grudge against you for what you did during the crystal incident."

"Because he didn't understand what my intentions were!" Merlin muttered, his eyes brightening with understanding. "People become vengeful when hurt, Arthur. I didn't try to help Mordred that day. I tried to ensure he was caught by the knights because I didn't want him to kill you. But he doesn't _know_ that!"

"So what? You're saying that we should tell him that he's destined to kill me?" Arthur asked incredulously. Did Merlin even know what he was saying? How would he feel if someone came up to him and told him it was his destiny to become a murderer? "I don't think we should."

"Arthur, this is what Kilgharrah was talking about," Merlin pressed. "The two choices we have to make: we can either choose to tell Mordred or leave him in the dark."

"And how will telling him help the situation?" Arthur demanded. "We could destroy him with this knowledge, Merlin. I don't know about you but I would hate to know that I would eventually kill a man I held no malice for."

The warlock bit his lip. "But wouldn't it be worse suspecting that people knew something about you but were unwilling to trust you with said knowledge?"

Arthur's heart constricted. He knew perfectly well what that felt like. He'd lived it from the moment he learned Merlin had been keeping things from him. The hurt had cut him to the core. It was the reason he'd made Merlin promise that there would be no more secrets between them. He couldn't live in fear and it was unfair to do that to Mordred, especially if he and Merlin were going to follow through with their original plan to knight every sorcerer as a reward for participating in the tournament. Besides, it was against the knight's code to be deceitful.

"We'll have to tell him," he muttered resignedly. "But, Merlin, is it the right thing to do? We don't know how he'll react."

The warlock sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You're right, we don't, but… I think it would be better to be honest with him than to keep this to ourselves. If we didn't say anything to him, both of us would never fully trust his intentions and Mordred isn't a fool; though our encounters have been brief, I can tell that he's perceptive. I'm sure he'd pick up on our distrust in a heartbeat. That might cause him to become bitter and then later resent us."

"Motivating him with hatred which would lead to a malevolent assassination, me being the victim," Arthur finished.

Merlin gravely nodded. "But if we tell him and reward him with our trust…"

"When his destiny eventually unfolds, the ending of my life will less likely be done with malicious intent."

"Exactly."

Arthur thought it over. If he were in Mordred's position, he would want to be told. Sure, it would be hard -and he might drive himself crazy with trying _not_ to kill the specified person- but it would be better to know than to never know at all and wonder why others looked at him with distrust and hate.

"Right," he muttered, making up his mind, "It's better to take a chance and to trust than to allow the seeds of doubt and uncertainty to be sown. Besides, if we're sticking with our original plan, Mordred will be a knight at the conclusion of this tournament. Integrity and trust are part of the knight's code and we have to extend the same to Mordred as we would any other man or woman employed in the crown's service."

"I hate to admit it when you're right but, in this case, you are," Merlin sighed. "When should we tell him?"

"Tomorrow," Arthur decided, "after the day's matches. We'll have a private meeting with him in the room where I told you my suspicions about Agravaine."

Merlin nodded. "I'll see that he gets the message."

Arthur clapped him on the shoulder. "I feel like we're doing the right thing, Merlin, even if it's the harder choice. Now, come on; it's getting late and I want to be well rested for tomorrow."

The two men headed back to their horses and then to the city, both lost in thought as to how the druid boy would react, each feeling in their heart that they'd come to the right decision but still having a bundle of nerves in the stomach from the uncertainty of it all.

 _Merlin was right,_ Arthur bitterly thought, _destinies truly are troublesome things_.

* * *

 **Brownie points for anyone who caught The Sorcerer's Apprentice characters, Balthazar and Maxim (aka Horvath), from Disney. ;)**

 **Review to express your thoughts? :3**


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin**

* * *

17: Tread Carefully in Light of Destiny

The second day of the magical tournament was an even bigger success than the last, one of the more impressive fights having been won by Gilli, the sorcerer Arthur had vaguely recognized from yesterday as the man who'd fought against his father several years ago. The king was pleased to see that Merlin already seemed to have a fairly good relationship with the sorcerer, the two of them currently talking and laughing over dinner about some adventure Gilli had been on. Arthur turned his attentions away from them, surveying the room in silence.

Percival was listening to a rather blushing Elliani as she spoke while cutting the meat on his plate with a spell, the bear-of-a-knight reclaiming his fork a moment later to begin eating the venison with a slightly embarrassed smile. Gwaine was attempting once more to flirt with the nearest serving maid who was – as per usual – accepting his advances with a flattered grin. Leon and Elyan, conversing with Alator and Massaro, enjoyed the moment with a spirit of camaraderie and friendship. Bedivere, Pelleas, and a few other knights were also present, each sitting between druids and sorcerer competitors without a care in the world. Even the visiting royals had chosen to sit amidst the magic users instead of away from them, enjoying themselves and laughing merrily through good conversation. Arthur's gaze settled on Mordred, the druid speaking animatedly to Kara, the two seeming to be perfectly happy and at ease within Camelot's walls.

And as the king observed it all, he couldn't help but feel that this was how it was supposed to be. Despite what he knew of Mordred, having the young druid sit amidst his knights surprisingly didn't bother him. The more Arthur thought about the exchange he and Merlin were to have with the young man after the feast, the more his anxiety ebbed away. It felt right. He knew it deep down. They were doing the right thing.

"Arthur?"

The king blinked, coming out of his silent contemplations to stare at the concerned gaze of his beloved.

"Sorry, Guinevere," he replied, taking a sip from his goblet.

Finding it almost empty, he motioned for Daegal to fill it and the young boy obliged, managing to do so without spilling a drop. _Well, at least he didn't inherit Merlin's clumsiness,_ Arthur smirked to himself.

"Arthur, are you alright? You've been rather quiet," Guinevere muttered, her voice low.

"I'm fine," Arthur assured her, touched by her concern. "I was just thinking."

Guinevere bit her lip, her dark eyes glancing over to Mordred. "About what you and Merlin are going to do tonight?"

Arthur nodded. He'd told Guinevere everything that happened out in the woods last night. She'd been rather afraid but supportive. She hadn't liked the idea of knighting the man who was destined to kill her future husband but she was willing to trust that Merlin and Arthur knew what they were doing.

"Will you tell me how it goes?" she asked.

Arthur took her hand and kissed her knuckles. "I will keep nothing from you," he promised.

Guinevere's smile was wide, her eyes sparkling with happiness. Arthur's heart constricted and for a moment he forgot they were in the banquet hall. Suddenly seized upon by an urge he'd become all too familiar with while around her, Arthur tightened his fist and forced himself to calm down.

 _Just a few more days,_ he reminded himself. _Just a few more days and then we'll be wed. I can wait until then_.

Guinevere didn't help matters as she leaned over and kissed his cheek, the heat from her lips lingering long after she pulled away. Arthur couldn't help smiling over at her, taking her hand and subtly playing with her fingers. As her fingertips brushed against his knuckles, Arthur felt shivers of pleasure dance down his spine. The sexual tension was growing between the two and after a few more minutes of playing with her fingers under the table, Arthur's physical desires won out.

Leaning over in her ear, he huskily whispered, "Wait for a minute and then meet me out in the hall."

He then kissed her cheek and pulled away, finding her eyes as bright and full of anticipation as he was. Rising slowly from his chair, he forced himself to appear the epitome of calm even though his heart was racing and his feet wanted to break into a run. He felt Merlin's eyes on him and after a brief shake of his head, the warlock relaxed in his seat and returned to his conversation with Gilli. Arthur didn't realize he had someone with him until he was out in the hall. Turning around, he came face to face with Daegal.

"Daegal! What are you doing here?"

The young boy raised an eyebrow. "Um, last I checked, I was your manservant. That means I go where you go."

Arthur frowned. "That's true – unless I tell you to go and do something else like I'm going to do now. Go and prepare my chambers for my retirement and then when you're finished with that you can have the rest of the evening off."

Daegal stared.

"What?" Arthur snapped, a little annoyed that the boy hadn't moved.

"Merlin said you never give time off," he said, explaining his confusion.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Correction, I never gave _him_ time off. Now, go on, before I change my mind and add mucking out my stables to the list of things you have to do before you retire."

Daegal didn't need telling twice. Fortune must have been smiling upon him for the second the boy disappeared around the corner, Guinevere stepped out into the hall. Unfortunately, Adaline was accompanying her. They hadn't seen him yet so Arthur hid behind a pillar and listened as their footfalls drew nearer.

"Honestly, I'll be fine for the night, Adaline," Guinevere assured her. "You're not my maidservant you know. You don't have to do things for me."

"But I like to," Adaline said. "You've shown me such kindness, Gwen. It's because of you that I was even able to get an audience with the king at all."

"Arthur would have seen you even if we hadn't met," Guinevere replied. "He is a fair and just king. He cares more about his people than himself. He makes time for them because he knows how important they are."

Arthur's heart swelled under the praise and his desire to kiss Guinevere senseless grew tenfold. The two women stopped just shy of Arthur's hiding place and the king prayed that Adaline would leave. It was a selfish thought and he immediately felt bad for thinking that way. Trying to keep his patience, Arthur closed his eyes and waited.

"I've never met a king with such views," Adaline muttered.

"Welcome to Camelot," Guinevere laughed. "Now, please, there's no need to accompany me tonight. I'll be fine."

"Alright but if you need anything…" the redhead gently pressed.

"I'll know where to find you. Thank you, Adaline."

Arthur peeked out from behind the pillar to see them embrace before dipping back so Adaline wouldn't see him. The girl's footsteps were traveling in the opposite direction but Guinevere hadn't moved.

"Arthur?" she hesitantly called.

The king slipped out from his hiding place, his eyes glancing quickly back and forth. They were thankfully alone. Pulling her into a convenient alcove a few feet away, Arthur yanked the curtains closed and turned back to face the woman he loved. Guinevere wore a lovely yellow dress decorated with embroidered leaves along the swooping neckline and cuffs of her long sleeves. Her hair fell loosely about her shoulders, the tight curls tantalizing the king's fingers, silently begging him to play with them. Arthur closed the distance between them and Guinevere eagerly wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her lips immediately seeking his.

All thought went out the window for Arthur as his desire took over, his lips repeatedly moving over Guinevere's in a loving dance. His hands trailed up her back from her waist, exploring her hair, the curls wrapping around his fingers similar to a sweet caress. A soft moan escaped Guinevere's throat as Arthur's lips began to travel across her jaw in short, gentle kisses. Reaching her neck, Arthur lingered there for a moment, tasting her skin. The fragrance of lavender and honey ensnared his senses, driving them mad.

"Guinevere," he whispered longingly.

Her hands tightened against his back, her fingers digging into the folds of his jacket. Her whole body trembled with pleasure and a small gasp escaped her lips. Arthur smiled from the reaction, enjoying the moment. He was therefore rather surprised when Guinevere's hands suddenly released his back and found his shoulders, spinning him around and pinning him up against the wall. Before he could register what was happening, her lips were on his and she was bestowing him with the most passionate kiss he'd ever received. The aggression – the desire – the _fire_ behind her actions… Arthur loved it all. He wrapped his arms around her, desperate to close any distance between them. Her body was up against his but… too many _clothes…_

Someone coughed on the other side of the curtain, freezing Arthur and Guinevere in place. Gone was the fiery passion, replaced by fear as Arthur realized that he had been one second away from… merciful heavens… he'd almost…!

"Sorry to interrupt," Merlin said quietly on the other side of the curtain, "but I'm afraid the feast is over and people are beginning to retire."

Arthur rested his head on Guinevere's shoulder and sighed. Thank every star above that it was _Merlin_ standing on the other side of the curtain and not someone else!

"Thank you, Merlin," he muttered.

"I'll… er… give you a moment then," Merlin muttered. The king heard him move away from the concealed alcove down the hall.

Arthur pulled back, finding Guinevere staring up at him with an absolutely mortified look on her face. "Guinevere?" he asked, afraid he'd gone too far.

She shook her head. "Arthur, I'm so sorry," she muttered, "I didn't even realize…"

Arthur weakly laughed. "I'm as much to blame as you."

Guinevere shook her head again before bending down to pick something up off the floor. It took longer than it should have for Arthur to realize she held his shirt in her hands and even longer to realize that he was now standing bare-chested in front of her. His face burning, Arthur quickly snatched the item and threw it back on.

"I'm sorry," Guinevere muttered again, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "I swear, I didn't even realize I'd removed it…"

Arthur, now dressed, took both her hands and squeezed them. "Guinevere, look at me." After a moment, she did. Arthur took in her beautiful face before reaching up and stroking it gently. "You are not to blame. I'm the one who pulled you into this alcove and I'm pretty sure I was fully supportive of you removing my shirt or else it wouldn't have happened."

She laughed weakly in response, swallowing hard while nodding. "Right," she whispered, "but we still shouldn't have done that. If Merlin hadn't come along when he did…"

"Believe me, I know," Arthur muttered, slightly ashamed.

A quick sigh was heard from both of them before Guinevere spoke up. "You need to go. He's waiting for you."

Arthur really didn't want to go anywhere but he knew he couldn't stay; he'd shame Guinevere and himself if he did. "We can't do this again," he muttered, his disappointment evident. "There's too much at stake right now."

She nodded. "I know."

Was it wrong that he was pleased that she sounded just as disappointed about that as he felt? Arthur rubbed his thumb against her cheek one more time before leaving her with a soft kiss.

"Until the wedding night then," he whispered.

The blush in Guinevere's cheeks darkened and her eyes filled with longing. "Until then," she whispered.

Arthur held her gaze a moment more before both slipped out of the alcove, Arthur heading in one direction and Guinevere in the other. Merlin was waiting at the end of the hall for him, examining his nails with greater interest than Arthur had ever seen him do before. At the king's approach, the warlock looked up.

"I set up a spell that blocked the hallway," he said. "I made it so any who tried to venture down this way suddenly forgot what they were doing and turned around to head in the opposite direction. I figured you and Guinevere wanted a moment but when you stayed hidden longer than normal – well, normal being measured by the times this has happened in the past– I felt I should step in. I'm sorry if I ruined the moment."

Arthur placed both hands on his warlock's shoulders and stared down at the ground. He couldn't bring himself to look Merlin in the eye. He was ashamed and he honestly didn't want to see Merlin disappointed in him. He was already disappointed in himself. He should have been able to control his desires! Things had definitely gone too far, farther than they'd ever gone in his courtship with Guinevere. He had made a promise to her and himself long ago that he would never attempt to take her innocence before marriage. What had he been thinking?!

"I'm grateful you did, Merlin," he muttered, eyes still downcast. "You saved us both."

Merlin rested a hand on Arthur's shoulder and the king was compelled to look him in the eye. What he found there wasn't disappointment but slight amusement and understanding.

"Arthur," Merlin gently smiled, "you're getting married at the end of the week. I've been expecting this. And, while I've been trying to give the two of you moments of privacy, _moments_ are all I feel appropriate to give. I don't think you realize it but the two of you were behind that curtain for a full ten minutes. I started to feel like something was wrong."

"Something was wrong, alright," Arthur mumbled, running his hands through his hair. "We almost… I almost…" He shook his head. "I was too close, Merlin."

The warlock nodded solemnly. "Well, I'm not going to reprimand you – it isn't my place to do so – but I would caution you to be careful from now on, Arthur. You only have a few more days. If you want to be with Gwen, I suggest you keep that in mind."

The king pushed his anger aside as the warlock's words sunk in. His first inclination was to tell Merlin to mind his own business but the greater part of him was able to see that his friend was only trying to help. His advice was sound and it held wisdom.

"Thank you, Merlin, for looking out for us," he said sincerely. "For looking out for me."

Merlin grinned. "It's all part of my job. Come on, Mordred should still be in the dining hall. I told him to wait there because you wanted a word."

"Great," Arthur frowned. "Well, let's get this over with."

They found Mordred waiting for them in the dining room while the servants bustled about cleaning the tables, the other guests having already retired for the evening. The young druid stood tall, his slightly curled black locks falling long across his forehead. His blue eyes calculated the king and warlock, his full lips pulled into a slight frown.

"You desired to see me, sire?" he asked after inclining his head to him.

"I did," Arthur confirmed. "There is a delicate matter I wish to discuss with you, Mordred. Perhaps we can retire to a more private setting."

Arthur didn't miss how Mordred's eyes tightened ever so slightly as he glanced at Merlin. By the deepening of Merlin's scowl, it appeared to Arthur as if they were having a conversation. Then it dawned on him; that might very well be what _was_ happening since both Merlin and Mordred had the ability to converse through their thoughts.

Deciding to be a little vindictive, Arthur cleared his throat. "Sorry to interrupt but whatever it is the two of you are discussing, I'd rather like to be part of the conversation."

Mordred's mouth dropped open, his eyes widening in surprise as Merlin asked, "How did you know?"

Arthur inwardly grinned in triumph that he'd guessed correctly. "Contrary to what you may believe, Merlin, I'm not completely incompetent. Now, please, both of you follow me."

And without waiting for a response, the king turned on his heel and left the room. He had full faith that Merlin would be right behind him in a matter of moments and he knew that Mordred wouldn't dare decline his invitation. Sure enough, the sounds of two pairs of feet were heard behind him accompanied by the comforting sense that Merlin belonged to one of said pairs. The three men walked in silence, reaching the armory in a matter of minutes. Arthur walked into the small room he'd dragged Merlin to the night he learned the truth about his uncle. Waiting until both sorcerers were inside, Arthur shut the door and barred it shut. Merlin conjured three yellow balls of light, the small spheres floating up near the ceiling, their innards swirling with some kind of mist.

Mordred shifted uneasily, looking between Merlin and Arthur with slight fear.

"Mordred," Arthur began, "I would first like to apologize for causing you distress."

"Have I done something wrong, sire?"

"No," Arthur assured. "No, actually, I felt it would do you and Merlin well to clear the animosity between you before it escalates any further than it already has."

Mordred eyed Merlin with distrust. "You told him."

"Arthur asked me to tell him everything that has transpired since the moment I arrived in Camelot," Merlin replied, "so I did, leaving nothing out. He knows of your involvement with the Crystal of Neahtid."

"Then he also knows that you tried to kill me that day!" Mordred snapped, his scowl prominent and his eyes narrowed maliciously.

"I don't deny it," Merlin regretfully confirmed. "Mordred–"

The druid held up a hand. "If this is you attempting to apologize, I stand by what I said before, Emrys: I shall never forgive and I shall never forget."

"Mordred, you are too quick to judge Merlin for something that you do not fully understand," said Arthur, deciding he'd had enough being the spectacle.

Mordred jumped; he'd completely forgotten the king was in the room. "Sire, forgive me," he began, "I know you honor this man but his actions towards me have been inexcusable. He has done me a grave disservice, leaving me at the mercy of men who would have killed me on sight had I not defended myself. Emrys is supposed to save his people yet he did no such thing for me."

"And why do you think that is?" asked Arthur while Merlin looked guiltily at his feet.

"Because he valued his life more than mine. Rather than reveal who he is and face whatever punishment may follow, he hid in the shadows and did nothing to help me!"

Merlin adamantly shook his head. "You're wrong. I would never abandon my own without purpose. The only time I would is if they were a threat to Arthur. I will protect my king even if that means going against my kin."

"Why would you believe I wanted to harm the king? He saved my life once. I hold no ill will towards him!"

"Then why are you here?" Merlin challenged. "Why did you decide to enter the tournament?"

Mordred looked at Merlin, hurt flooding his countenance. "You really believe I did so to kill Arthur? You think so ill of me?" His eyes then filled with an inner anger, his voice rising as he closed the distance between them. "What have I done to deserve such distain from you?" he cried.

"It's not what you've done, it's what you're _destined_ to do!" Merlin snapped, his eyes involuntarily flickering with gold. The ground beneath their feet trembled and the spheres of light about their heads turned an ominous shade of red.

"Merlin! Calm down!" Arthur ordered, stepping between the two and pushing them apart.

All the fight seemed to drain out of the druid as he stared passed Arthur, looking straight at the warlock. "What do you mean by that?" he muttered.

Merlin, breathing deeply, didn't answer.

"What do you mean by that?" Mordred demanded, pushing Arthur out of the way and grabbing onto Merlin's vest, slamming him into the wall. "Please," Mordred begged, the anger disappearing as desperation took hold. Merlin remained tight-lipped, eyes wide with disbelief over the druid's display. The earlier anger returned in Mordred's countenance and he shook Merlin, shoving him once more into the wall. _"Tell me!"_ he shouted.

Arthur had seen enough. Unsheathing Excalibur, he thrust the blade at Mordred's neck. "Move away from him," he commanded, his tone dripping with silent warning.

The druid's eyes widened and his anger dissipated. Horrified, he took a step back and then another, looking down at his hands, sickened as to what he'd just done. Arthur stepped in front of Merlin, his blade still directed at Mordred's throat, his muscles taut and ready to strike at any given moment.

"You will not touch Merlin again," Arthur stated, his eyes daring Mordrid to try otherwise.

The young man shook his head. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to. It's just… you said something, Emrys; something about my destiny. Please, do you know what it is?"

Merlin moved around to stand at Arthur's side. The king glanced at him. The warlock held a puzzled and calculated expression as he observed the troubled druid.

"Why do you want to know?" he finally asked.

Mordred swallowed painfully. "All my life I have seen the way the druids look at me. They are filled with anger and mistrust. I asked many druid chieftains why the others held me in such distain but their vague replies were always the same thing: _'it has to do with your destiny.'_ They will never tell me more. Please, I can see it in your eyes. You know what it is, Emrys. Will you also keep it from me?"

Arthur's eyes connected with Merlin's and the king sent him a nod. It was time to tell the truth. Arthur sheathed Excalibur and took a step back, inviting Merlin to be the one to lead the conversation. Mordred watched the silent exchange, desperation and hurt radiating from his countenance.

"No, Mordred," Merlin stated, "I won't keep it from you."

There was a pregnant pause where hardly any of them dared breathe, almost as if Fate herself was frozen in anticipation.

"The poets speak of the time of the Once and Future King, the one who will unite the land of Albion and return magic to the land," Merlin began. "As a druid, I'm sure you've heard this prophecy your whole life."

"Of course I have," Mordred slightly snapped due to impatience. "Every druid child is taught of the world Emrys and the Once and Future King will build together. But this is _your_ prophecy. What does it have to do with my destiny?"

"Everything," Merlin gravely replied. "There is another prophecy, one that speaks of Arthur's downfall, which you, Mordred, will bring about."

The druid staggered backward, his eyes wide and his mouth slackening in disbelief. "What? That cannot be…" he whispered, staring horrified at the king. "I could never do such a thing."

"It is your destiny," Merlin repeated. "One day Arthur will fall by your hand and with his death, Albion will crumble into ruin."

"No," Mordred denied, backing away further, his head shaking back and forth in denial, " _no._ I don't want that. How could you even suggest–"

"It's the truth, Mordred," said Arthur bitterly. "The Great Dragon told us."

"He was lying!" Mordred cried, tears beginning to form in his eyes. "Why would I want to kill you, Arthur? You have done nothing but show compassion to me. You lifted the ban on magic. You're working towards a kingdom where my kind will be accepted. It's something I've looked forward to my whole life. Why would I want to see you dead when you're making the world a place where I can belong?"

Arthur shook his head. "I don't know."

Mordred quickly wiped a tear away, his lip trembling as he tried to keep himself from falling apart. He looked over at Merlin, understanding filling his troubled gaze. "You've known this whole time…"

Merlin closed his eyes and nodded. "Yes."

Mordred let all the air escape his lungs. "Of course," he whispered. "Everything makes sense now… why you took so long to come when I needed to get out of Camelot… why you tried to stop me later on from escaping from the Camelot soldiers… you wanted to kill me because I'm the one who will kill your king."

Merlin nodded regretfully and Arthur couldn't help staring at the two men in pity. Yes, they were talking about his death, but what must both of them be feeling? Arthur knew that Merlin hated keeping secrets and he couldn't even imagine how Mordred felt now that he knew that he would be the reason for Albion's eventual end.

"Why did you rescue me all those years ago as a child if you knew?"

"Because I knew how you felt," Merlin answered. "To be hunted and hated for something you had no control over – I saw myself in you and I couldn't follow Kilgharrah's advice. Later, when I saw you use your magic to escape into the woods, I began to see the threat you posed to my king. My compassion became riddled with fear and so, when the opportunity came, I was a complete coward and waited for the soldiers to kill you because I still couldn't do it myself. Even now I can't find the desire to end your life even though I know you will one day end Arthur's."

Mordred bowed his head. "Now I understand why you hate me so much. The druids – you – the animosity all makes sense."

"I'm sorry, Mordred," Merlin sincerely replied.

"Kill me," he whispered.

Arthur blinked. "What?"

"Kill me," Mordred repeated, staring right at the king. "I don't want to be responsible for your death or that of Albion. Please, Arthur, kill me so that this won't happen."

"No," Arthur refused. "I will do no such thing."

"But… I don't understand. Why?"

"Because I don't believe in murdering a man who hasn't done anything to deserve death," Arthur stated.

"You cannot escape destiny, sire," Mordred bitterly declared. "It stalks us all like a ghost and one day it will call to us and we will be compelled to obey it. I _will_ kill you one day. I wish it weren't so but I know enough about Destiny and Fate not to scorn them."

"Destinies," Merlin muttered, "are troublesome things. You feel trapped… like your whole life has been planned out for you and you've got no control over anything and sometimes you don't even know if what destiny has decided is really the best thing at all. But I also know that choice dictates how our lives will flourish. My destiny is to serve Arthur and I have chosen to happily do so. Arthur's destiny is to be the greatest king this land has ever known and he has decided to embrace it."

"Both of us had to come to a conscious decision of whether to accept what was expected of us willingly or resentfully," Arthur continued. "The way is hard and there has been great tribulation; if I were honest, I am terrified of what yet lies ahead. Never before has any man or woman attempted to unite all the land under one rule. The depth of the task is daunting and there have been many nights since I learned the truth that I have been haunted by failure. But every time fear comes, I fight it with the faith I have that all will be as it is meant to be and that I just need to do my part. Mordred, you can't escape what Destiny has lain out for you but you _can_ choose how to go about it.

"Merlin and I felt that it would be better to tell you the truth than to watch you descend into bitterness and anger from our lack of trust in you. You have a good soul and I have detected no animosity from you towards me. I do not know how your destiny will come to pass but I refuse to live in fear that you are going to kill me at every turn. What will happen, will happen and when it does there will be no way to change it. The only thing you can do is decide what you are going to do now that you know."

Mordred stared at both Arthur and Merlin, confusion laced through his very being. "How can you be comforting me when you know that I will one day end your life?"

Arthur rested a hand on Mordred's shoulder. "We are all men carrying a destiny, Mordred, and though yours is the heaviest of us all, I feel it would be a disservice to abandon you with this burden. I hold no ill will towards you. I accept my fate and do it gladly, deciding to focus on the things I can do instead of the things I have no control over. You would do well to do the same."

Merlin stepped closer, a determined glint in his unique blue eyes. "Mordred, I'm sorry for how I treated you in the past. I judged you without knowing how you would react, drawing the worst possible conclusion in ignorance. I see now that you have no desire to intentionally harm my king. Can you forgive me for not trusting you?"

The druid looked deep into Merlin's eyes before reaching forward and clasping his forearm. "I take back my words, Emrys," he humbly replied. "I forgive you."

Merlin's smile was one of gratitude. "I promise I will never abandon you again, Mordred. Arthur has accepted his fate at your hand and I will honor his decision. When the time comes, I will not resent you."

Mordred bowed his head. "Thank you, Emrys."

"Please, my friends call me Merlin."

"As mine call me Arthur," said the king, smiling warmly at the druid.

Mordred stared at the two of them gratefully. "I am honored to be held in such high esteem considering the matter that has been brought to light. I value your invitations of friendship and I will honor them to the best of my ability."

Arthur shared a smile with Merlin before clapping Mordred on the shoulder. "You're a good man, Mordred."

"Thank you, Arthur."

It was then that Merlin involuntarily let out a huge yawn. "Sorry," he apologized, rubbing his eyes. Arthur studied him a moment. Deep purple half-circles clung beneath his bright blue irises, the exhaustion written plainly all over his warlock's face.

"Right," Arthur muttered, "it's late and all of us should retire. You have a match tomorrow, Mordred, and I won't be blamed for keeping you up. Merlin, get some sleep; you look like you're about to fall over."

Merlin scowled. Arthur knew he wanted to deny it but the warlock couldn't hide his fatigue. The man had been running around since early this morning and all of the stress from the day had caught up to him. The last thing Arthur wanted was for his unofficial advisor to run himself into the ground. He knew Merlin well enough to know that the foolish idiot had hardly any self preservation; he probably wouldn't realize how tired he was until he literally passed out against his will. So, naturally, this left Arthur as being the responsible one in making sure his brother received the proper amount of rest to meet the challenges of the day.

Removing the plank of wood from the door, Arthur nodded to Mordred, grabbed Merlin gently by the back of the neck and steered him from the room. It was testimony of his exhaustion when the warlock didn't even protest at such manhandling, allowing the king to guide him from the armory all the way to his private chambers. Merlin didn't even change out of his clothes, his eyes drooping as he fell onto his bed. Arthur shook his head, staring down at his warlock in fondness and exasperation.

"Honestly," he quietly muttered as he bent down and started removing Merlin's boots, "you're hopeless, Merlin."

"Shut up… prat," Merlin slurred.

The king grinned, lightly ruffling Merlin's head. "Get some sleep, idiot," he gently commanded.

Walking across the room, Arthur glanced back just in time to see Merlin roll onto his side, already fast asleep. His smile grew and the king shook his head as he closed the door behind him, leaving his warlock to his dreams.

* * *

 **Thank you all for reviewing last chapter and for favoriting and following this story. My birthday is tomorrow so if you'd like to give a gift, a review would be a very good one to consider. ;) My life's a little hectic since I'm planning a wedding so the updates, unfortunately, may not be as frequent as my usual schedule. But rest assured, I will continue to update! I love this story too much to abandon it any time soon. Thanks again for being such amazing readers and reviewers! You guys rock!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin**

* * *

18: Complications and Victories

Arthur was walking down the hall when he heard a crash, a familiar hiss of pain, and a hasty apology.

"Sorry!" Merlin muttered.

"No, it is I who should have been more careful."

Arthur raised a curious brow. That was Adaline's voice. Sneaking to the corner, Arthur peeked around the stone just enough to see but also remain hidden. Merlin was on his hands and knees, snatching up several apples and oranges and placing them in a silver bowl near Adaline's side. The young woman was also on the ground, gathering the misplaced fruit. When it came down to the last apple, Arthur saw the coming impact but refrained from giving warning since he didn't want to be discovered. Merlin and Adaline reached for the apple at the same time and their foreheads promptly knocked together.

"Ouch!" they both cried, pulling away and rubbing the impacted spot.

"Sorry," Merlin muttered again.

Adaline laughed. "You're not the only one to blame. I fear I have the misfortune of being clumsy sometimes."

"Me as well," Merlin chuckled, holding out the fruit to her. "Here."

"Thank you," Adaline smiled, accepting the apple, her long hair ever hiding most of her face.

"Are you alright?" Merlin asked before pointing to his own head, "I've been told by many that I have a pretty thick skull."

 _Idiot_ , Arthur inwardly laughed.

Adaline chuckled. "I'm sure that's not true. You're smarter than you look."

"…Thanks…"

"No, I didn't mean it like that," she quickly backtracked, "it's just, you're more intelligent than some people give you credit for. I've heard some of the wisdom you've given to the king since being here and it reflects much of who you are and the lessons you have had to learn. You're an amazing man, Emrys. Arthur is blessed to have you."

Merlin's cheeks flushed and for a moment he appeared at a loss for words – quite an achievement given the man's reputation to chatter incessantly. Arthur watched as Adaline bit her lip and looked away, only to peek again at the warlock behind her long auburn hair. A grin started to climb the king's face. Well, well, well… could it be that his earlier suspicions were correct? Adaline had been with them for almost a week now and from the brief interactions Arthur had seen, he would have been blind not to notice how much attention Merlin was giving the redhead. Could it be that his resident warlock was developing feelings for this girl?

Merlin scratched the side of his head. "Right, well, if your head does start to bother you, I can heal it – if you like."

Adaline's smile deepened, her green eyes brightening. "I'll keep that in mind."

Merlin got to his feet and helped the lady to hers before bending down and picking up the fruit bowl. He offered it to Adaline and the girl's hands briefly brushed against his as she took it back.

"Thank you, Merlin," she said with a grateful smile. "You are kinder than most noblemen I have met."

Merlin shook his head. "Oh, I'm not a noble."

"But you are," she countered, pointing to his heart, "in here. I've only known you a short time but I can see why Arthur holds you in such high regard. He is right to make you a member of his court. I look forward to the ceremony." She curtsied to him. "My lord," she added, her smile radiating and her eyes soft.

She started to walk away but then Merlin called out to her. "Adaline?"

She turned, her red hair swinging gracefully before settling perfectly around her freckled cheeks. "Yes?"

"I look forward to seeing you attend," he muttered, the tips of his ears bright red.

A light blush stole over Adaline's face before she curtsied again and went on her way.

Arthur watched the whole thing, his grin so large now that he was afraid it was going to remain permanently fixed on his face. Oh, there was _definitely_ something happening between those two and he couldn't help being happy for his warlock. Merlin had been alone for so long. Yes, he'd had Freya but she was bound to the lake of Avalon. It was unfortunate but it didn't seem like the two had much of a future now that she was gone. But Adaline… she obviously had feelings towards the warlock; even Arthur could see that. He may have been blind to women flirting with him in the past but that didn't mean he couldn't see it happening to others. The king approved of what he saw. Adaline seemed like a good girl. Only yesterday Guinevere had confided that she wanted her to be her maidservant and that Adaline was eager to accept the position. Merlin falling in love with Guinevere's maidservant was perfectly fitting in Arthur's eyes, poetic even.

It therefore left him very confused when Merlin shook his head and turned around with an angry expression on his face. Arthur's grin slipped immediately into a frown as he watched his friend rub a frustrated hand over his eyes before walking to the nearest window, leaning against the stone and staring out of the glass with a heavy countenance. He stayed like that for several minutes and Arthur wondered just what exactly was going through Merlin's head. Deciding that he wouldn't get any concrete answers unless he asked the man outright, Arthur walked around the corner towards the troubled warlock.

"Is there something fascinating happening in the courtyard or are you displaying your usual idiocy of staring off into space?"

Arthur waited for the quick-witted remark but the only response Merlin gave him was a slight lift in the corner of his mouth and a soft, "Hello, Arthur."

The king frowned. "Alright," he demanded, "what's wrong?"

Merlin shook his head, his lips tightly shut.

"It can't be the tournament," Arthur mused, "since it's been a huge success these past four days. The lords and the people are highly anticipating the ceremony where you'll become Court Sorcerer so you can't be worrying about their acceptance of you either. Perhaps you're worried about the unknown killer that Adaline mentioned before all of this started; they haven't made an appearance and the tournament will be over tomorrow."

"That _has_ been worrying me," Merlin confessed.

"But it wasn't what was on your mind when I found you wallowing here," Arthur replied.

Merlin glanced at him before looking back out the window. "You were never this observant before. Why the sudden change?"

Arthur pretended to be insulted. "I have always been observant, Merlin. There is a reason why I am known for being the best warrior in the five kingdoms. I have excellent observation skills. Not to mention I'm trying to keep my promise in making sure that you know that I notice you. Now, tell me, what's wrong?"

The warlock let out a heavy sigh. "It's… hard to explain."

Arthur decided that he'd just have to force it out of the reluctant idiot. "Does this have something to do with Adaline?"

Merlin stiffened. "Adaline? Why on earth did you bring her up? This has nothing to do with her."

The king rolled his eyes. "Stop being an idiot, Merlin. I would have to be blind not to have noticed the way you've been looking at her since the moment she arrived in Camelot. You like her, don't you?"

"No!" Merlin denied. Arthur raised an eyebrow and the warlock's eyes fell down to look at his boots. "Maybe," he quietly admitted.

"And you're reluctant to admit it because…?"

"Because it is _wrong_ for me to do so!" Merlin snapped, his eyes flashing angrily. "I shouldn't be having these feelings, Arthur. They're wrong. Every time she steps into a room, my gaze gravitates towards her. Every time she speaks, my ears naturally pick up her voice. For heaven's sake, even the brief moment when our hands touched just now my heart pulsed in a way I haven't felt since…"

Merlin trailed off, his tirade dying as the reluctant subject of Freya weighed heavily upon his mind.

Arthur gazed at his brother in concern. "Merlin, your feelings for Adaline are warranted. Why should you deny yourself from accepting them?"

The warlock turned away but not before the king saw a tear fall down his cheek. "It wouldn't be appropriate," he whispered.

He then turned back to Arthur, his eyes filled with anguish and confusion. It was a look the king had rarely seen and his heart immediately ached, the desire to remove it seizing upon him. He took a step closer and before he could prepare himself for it, Merlin's arms were around him in a desperate embrace. Slightly panicked, Arthur looked back and forth. They were out in the open! If anyone were to come around the corner and see this display…!

Arthur was just about to execute his instinct to remove Merlin from his person when the warlock whispered devastatingly in his ear, "How can it be possible to have feelings for another and yet still be in love with someone else?"

And that was when Arthur threw caution out the window. Merlin's broken voice, his trembling form; he needed comfort and he needed it now. Sacrificing the possibility of someone stumbling upon them and misinterpreting the action, Arthur wrapped his arms around the warlock and held him close.

"I don't know," he admitted, patting Merlin's back.

"I still love Freya," Merlin confessed, "but these feelings for Adaline… I've tried to ignore them, Arthur. I really have. But they won't go away. In fact, they're getting _worse_."

"And you don't want to give into them because you're afraid?"

"I feel I will be betraying Freya if I do," Merlin revealed, pulling away while rubbing his eyes. "She restored me to my proper age not even a month ago, Arthur. Only true love could remove that spell. So why is it that I can't help feeling something similar towards Adaline? How can that be possible? How can I give my heart to another when it already belongs to someone else? I don't understand and it's tearing me apart inside."

"And you've been worrying about this while having to deal with everything else," Arthur muttered, frowning. "I'm sorry, Merlin. Once again I feel like I've been ignorant to your suffering."

"I didn't confess all of this to bring you to guilt, Arthur. I've wanted to talk to you about what I've been feeling but I'm afraid I'm still suffering from the whole 'must keep secrets' habit. Besides, I don't exactly love Adaline – my feelings for her aren't the same as what I had for Freya – but there is something there and it's taken me until now to openly acknowledge that fact."

Arthur desperately wanted to help Merlin through this but he was out of his depth. He'd never faced such a predicament before. What could he say? What advice could he give? Well, whenever he needed to solve a problem, Arthur would speak to the individual involved. Wait! Maybe…

"Maybe you need to talk to Freya about this?" he suggested.

Merlin looked flabbergast over the very idea. "I couldn't do that!" he cried, adamantly shaking his head. "I don't even know if I could anyway; every time I've gone to the lake in the past, she hasn't appeared."

Arthur frowned. "Merlin, I really think you should try to talk to her. If I'm right, your feelings for Adaline aren't going to just go away; they'll only continue to grow with the more interaction you have with her – and you're going to be having a lot because she's going to become Guinevere's maidservant after her coronation. I don't think you're going to be able to sort your feelings until you seek Freya out and hear what she has to say about this."

"But that might not be possible," Merlin argued.

"You won't know until you try," Arthur pressed.

The warlock scowled, folding his arms and looking remarkably like the pouting young boy Arthur had learned to love three weeks ago. The small glimpse of Arlin caused a sad smile to steal over the king.

"I hate it when you spout forth wisdom, Arthur," Merlin grumbled. "It isn't fair."

"You're not the only one who has the right to wisdom, Merlin," Arthur rejoined, "That's conceited thinking and you know it."

"Prat."

Arthur chuckled, clapping Merlin on the shoulder. "So, you'll seek her out?"

Merlin rolled his eyes. "I will only because I know that if I don't you'll get Gaius to drug me and drag me to the lake yourself."

"You're smarter than you look," Arthur grinned.

"But I'm not going to do anything until after the tournament, alright?"

The king considered the idea a moment before giving in. "I suppose I can agree with that. But don't you dare use the excuse of your new duties as Court Sorcerer and First Adviser to the King as a means to procrastinate. The night you get appointed, we're going to the lake."

The warlock sighed in resignation. "Fine… dollophead."

Arthur wrapped his arm around Merlin's shoulders and began steering him towards the dining room. "Come on, you idiot, it's time for dinner and I'm not about to let you keep me from eating."

"Are you determined to gain another notch in that belt, sire?"

Arthur let go of Merlin's shoulders and drew back his knuckles to punch the idiot in the back of the head. Merlin took the opportunity to make a break for it, sprinting down the hall and around the corner with Arthur chasing after him.

 _"MERLIN!"_

[][][]

"Bask in the morning, sire!"

A fierce onslaught of sunlight slammed into the king's closed lids, interrupting his dreams. Arthur groaned and rolled over, pressing his face into his pillow. He didn't know which was worse, Merlin's 'Rise and shine!' or Daegal's personal morning mantra. Both were incredibly irritating.

"Come on, sire," Daegal persisted. "This is the last day of the tournament. Surely you don't want to miss the match between Mordred and Balthazar?"

Arthur, as uncooperative as ever in the morning, spoke into his pillow. "The match isn't until noon today, Daegal. That's practically five hours away."

"Actually… it isn't. The match is to take place in two hours."

"What?!"

Arthur twisted over and sat up, glaring at his new manservant. The brave fool wasn't looking at him; he was focused on arranging the breakfast he'd brought. Arthur's fingers itched to throw something but he refrained. He was trying really hard to change that bad habit – although for some reason he still managed to throw things at Merlin; probably because the idiot deserved it.

"Why did you let me sleep so long?" he demanded.

Daegal shrugged. "It was Merlin's idea. He felt that you could use a lie in from how drunk you were last night."

Arthur frowned. He remembered drinking a lot during the evening feast but he didn't think he'd had _that_ much. Then again, he couldn't for the life of him remember how he ended up in bed.

"Why don't I have a headache?" he wondered aloud.

"Merlin brought you back," Daegal replied as he walked over to the closet, selecting the king's clothes for the day. "He might have magicked it away."

Then, as if on cue, the idiot himself walked through the door without knocking, grinning his usual cheerful grin as he eyed Arthur still in bed. "My, my, it's nearly noon, Arthur. What are you doing still asleep?"

Reflexively, Arthur grabbed the goblet on his nightstand and chucked it across the room. Merlin raised a hand, his eyes flashing gold. The projectile slowed down to a crawl and the warlock gently plucked it from the air and strode over to Arthur's bed, placing it back on the bedside table.

"That's not fair," the king groused, glowering at him.

Merlin grinned. "You're the one who said I could freely use my magic now. Not my fault that you forgot that."

"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur grumbled, throwing the covers aside and walking over to the partition to change. "So, why are you here when you should be making sure everything is ready for today?"

"Checking on you is part of the preparations, prat."

Merlin's answer had been muffled and the king had a sneaky suspicion it was because the warlock had stolen food from his plate. Sure enough, Arthur stepped around the screen to see Merlin finishing off a sausage while Daegal was busy straightening the bed. Arthur scowled but didn't comment, sitting down to his breakfast and smacking Merlin's hand when he tried to steal something else. Merlin lightly chuckled and gave up any further attempts.

"Why would checking up on me be part of you doing your job as Court Sorcerer?"

" _Unofficial_ Court Sorcerer," Merlin corrected, "And if you hadn't forgotten, no one has tried to kill you yet."

"Shouldn't we be celebrating that's not the case?"

Merlin shook his head. "This tournament isn't over, Arthur. I'm not going to relax just because it's the last day and neither should you. For all we know, someone might try something during the match when everyone is distracted."

"But Aithusa won't be preoccupied with the match," Arthur countered, looking over at the sleeping dragon that was currently curled up in the corner of the room.

Merlin frowned. "As comforting as it is that she will be watching out for you, I still want to place some protective enchantments on your clothes. One can never be too careful, Arthur, and I'm not taking any chances having the first magical tournament end with your death."

"That would be a very bad omen," Daegal commented as he finished with the bed and moved on to picking up the clothes Arthur had left on the floor the night before.

The king, seeing the determination of his warlock, sighed and gave in. "Fine, enchant the clothes if it'll put your mind at ease."

"Thank you, Arthur," Merlin said, his shoulders visibly relaxing.

"Speaking of minds, have the druids picked up on anything suspicious as they've been wandering the halls?"

Merlin shook his head, disappointment clearly written all over his face. "Not a word," he grumbled. "They've set up a patrol of sorts down the corridor where the competitors are staying but there hasn't been a conversation they've overheard that speaks of treason. Neither have they seen any foul play."

Now aware of Merlin's feelings, Arthur knew he had to be delicate with his next comment so he gave it lightly, without much contemplation.

"Perhaps Adaline was mistaken about what she overheard," he said before taking a sip from his goblet.

"I doubt it," Merlin immediately replied, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. "Adaline is too pure to lie about a threat to someone's life. Trust me on that one, Arthur."

The king raised a curious eyebrow. "Why do I get the feeling there's a reason you feel that way?"

The responding blush and staring down at his boots was evidence enough for Arthur to guess that something further had happened between Merlin and his new love interest. Arthur glanced over at Daegal. The young man was setting out his armor on the table, probably preparing to polish it.

"Daegal, you can leave that for Merlin. I'm sure he can polish everything in a matter of seconds anyway. Why don't you go down to the kitchens and find a large piece of raw venison for Aithusa. I'm sure she'll be hungry when she wakes."

"You want me to carry a huge chunk of raw meat all the way up here?" Daegal asked while wrinkling his nose.

"And here I thought you were more intelligent than Merlin," Arthur said while smirking. "Only a moron would have to have things repeated to them."

"I'm not stupid!" Daegal defended, crossing the room and leaving in a huff.

Arthur chuckled good-naturedly before turning back to Merlin who had remained silent during the whole exchange. "Alright, why the long face this time?"

The warlock shrugged, his long finger playing with the edges of the table. "You and Daegal seem to be getting on rather well…"

Arthur stared. "Please tell me you aren't jealous."

"I'm not."

"Your tone would suggest otherwise."

Merlin scowled, folding his arms. "What is there to be jealous of? Not having to wash your dirty socks anymore is one of the greatest blessings in my life."

"And yet you say it with such bitterness," Arthur rejoined as he finished the rest of his meal.

"I'm not bitter!"

The king sighed. Pushing his plate away, he stood up and surprised Merlin by voluntarily pulling him into an embrace.

"The relationship I have with Daegal is surprisingly tolerable but it will never replace the one we have, you idiot. If it's any comfort to you at all, I haven't thrown a single thing at the boy and neither do I ever plan to. I've never called him an idiot either. How could I? That's your title. So stop worrying yourself over the false idea that you're being replaced. You may have taught Daegal the things that I like but he's not you nor will he ever be."

Arthur left Merlin to collect his emotions since the warlock appeared to need a moment. Walking across the room, Arthur picked up Excalibur and started working on securing it to his waist.

"Right, so what happened between you and Adaline last night?" he asked casually over his shoulder.

"Nothing!" Merlin hastily replied. Under the king's raised eyebrow, the warlock scowled, all evidence of worry gone from his face. "Nothing happened, Arthur. I swear. We just had a rather enlightening conversation."

"Right… did this conversation involve some form of physical intimacy?"

"Arthur!" Merlin cried, offended. "I just told you yesterday about how I'm struggling with my feelings and you assume that I've forsaken Freya to satisfy my own personal desire?"

Realizing his mistake, Arthur immediately apologized. "I'm sorry, that was wrong of me to say."

"Yes it was," Merlin glared. "For your information, I found out something about her that kind of surprised me."

"Oh? Are you going to tell me?" Merlin bit his lip and Arthur felt the familiar pang of hurt that came whenever he knew the warlock was keeping something from him. "More secrets then…" he muttered, disappointment laced through every word.

"Arthur, I want to tell you," Merlin began.

The king held up a hand, his interest piqued. "Forget it, Merlin."

The warlock scowled. "This is not about _us_ , Arthur! I told you that when it came to secrets I would keep nothing from you but what Adaline told me was rather personal. I don't want to betray her trust by sharing something that she's kept closely guarded since coming here."

Arthur understood. He really did. But that didn't mean he wasn't hurt by the fact that Merlin was once more hiding something from him. "I know it's not just your secret to share," he muttered, "but…"

Merlin let all the air out of his lungs, running a frustrated hand through his hair before he muttered something under his breath. The king watched as he raised his finger and began writing words in the Old tongue in midair, the letters possessing a glow similar to the coals of a fire.

"What are you doing?" Arthur asked, intrigued.

Merlin didn't answer. Arthur was just about to open his mouth when a string of words appeared underneath those written by Merlin except these were glowing blue instead of gold. Merlin nodded to himself before waving his hand through the message. The figures disappeared like smoke, fading slowly into nothing.

"Did you just communicate with someone with magic?" Arthur asked, slightly dumbfounded by the display he'd just witnessed.

Merlin nodded. "It's a new spell I came across in one of the many books Uther confiscated years ago. I thought it would come in handy one of these days. I've only written things in the Old Religion but maybe we can see if it'll work with different languages in the future."

"That would definitely be useful," Arthur mused, momentarily distracted with visions of implementing such a technique in battle and while on patrols. The amount of time that would save...

"Arthur."

The king looked up, surprised by the sudden steely tone the warlock had used to address him. Merlin looked dead serious, his gaze unwavering as he stared straight into the king's soul.

"Adaline was the one who responded to the message. She's given permission for me to share her secret but you have to swear that what I'm about to tell you stays in this room."

Arthur blinked, shocked. Merlin was actually going to tell him what Adaline had shared with him last night? He immediately felt guilty. Perhaps he shouldn't have pressed him earlier… but he couldn't stand knowing that Merlin was once more keeping secrets. It opened up old wounds; wounds of doubt and mistrust that Arthur never wanted to touch again. He hated feeling so vulnerable but he wasn't going to stop Merlin from confiding in him now that he had decided to. He therefore contained these emotions, squared his shoulders, and nodded.

"I swear I won't repeat anything."

Merlin nodded to himself before whispering a spell under his breath. His eyes flashed gold and Arthur felt something invisible sweep past him. "Muffling spell," Merlin explained, answering his unspoken question, "this way nobody will be able to hear what is being said."

"Right," Arthur muttered, leaning against the table where his armor rested. "Well, go on then."

Merlin walked over to the chest that lay at the foot of Arthur's bed and sat upon it. "Arthur, have you ever heard of elves?"

The king's eyebrows rose all the way to his hairline. "Surprisingly, yes. I don't know much about them but I remember hearing of their existence while in the tavern when I was younger. Some traveler came through raving like a lunatic that he'd been healed by an immortal people that lived in the woods. He said they were highly skilled in the art of healing and held a grace that was almost inhuman. They were called elves, according to him. My father tried – unsuccessfully – to find the people the traveler spoke of but eventually gave up. Wait, are you saying that Adaline…?"

"She's an elf, Arthur," Merlin confirmed, "well, half-elf. She's part human. Her mother was an elf and her father a man. It was a forbidden relationship and, after Adaline was born, her family was forced to leave the elven woods. Elves are very proud creatures of magic. They're not exactly immortal – they can die if they receive fatal wounds – but they live a lot longer than men do. They have remarkable hunting skills and have a deep connection with the earth. Adaline, being half-elf, inherited some of her mother's abilities. She can communicate with the earth and she possesses heightened senses but she can't use magic. She also lacks the grace that elves possess, inheriting a slight clumsiness from her father's side that makes it so her hunting skills aren't on par with her mother's people. As to her lifespan, she tells me that she's seen twenty three summers but her parents suspected she will outlive several generations of men before she will pass on into Avalon."

Of all the things Arthur had been suspecting about the woman, this was the last. "She's an elf," he muttered.

"Half-elf," Merlin corrected.

Arthur shook his head. "If I wasn't already well acquainted with various magical beasts and a warlock for a best friend I wouldn't believe a word of this, Merlin."

"Glad to know you trust me, _sire_ ," Merlin said, the corners of his mouth twitching a little.

"Have you ever met an elf before?" Arthur asked curiously.

The warlock immediately shook his head. "Like you, I've only heard stories. I read a little about them in one of Gaius's books about magical creatures but there isn't much said besides what I've already told you. They're very secretive, dwelling so deeply in the woods that any who stumble upon them mostly do so by accident. That man you overheard in the tavern probably only found them because he was lost in the woods with an injury."

"But from how they treated Adaline and her family it leads me to believe that they hate men," Arthur commented. "Why would they heal that man if they disapprove of humans falling in love with their kind?"

Merlin smiled. "You should know the answer to that one, Arthur. Think of the differences in social class in our society. Kings – normally – don't fall in love with peasants but they will do everything they can to help someone who comes to them for aid. Though your father did not approve of having relations with those lesser than his station he tried to help them if they sought him out. Remember how my mother pled for help when those mercenaries were attacking Ealdor? Uther truly regretted not being able to do anything to relieve the situation. The elves are the same. They saw that the man you mentioned was in need and they helped him but they frown upon what they deem "lesser creatures" mixing with their kind. To them, it is a crime to do so."

"That's stupid," Arthur grumbled. "Love should not be dictated by _what_ you are but _who_ you are."

"I agree," Merlin said with an approving nod, "but not all men think the way we do, Arthur."

"Nor elves apparently," Arthur commented. "So, did you find out why Adaline is alone and not with her parents?"

Merlin's face fell. "They died – ambushed by bandits. They were traveling to Mercia to start a new life of trade when they were attacked. Adaline's father was the first to die and her mother provided just enough cover for her daughter to escape before she was shot with an arrow from behind. Adaline only managed to get away by using her connection with the earth to blend in with the trees. She waited until she was sure she was alone before burying her parents. She's been on her own ever since, wandering from place to place, taking as many odd jobs as she can though she doesn't get much – apparently red hair has a bad reputation in many areas. She came to Camelot when she heard the ban had been lifted. She'd hoped that she would be more welcomed here with what she is than in other places."

Arthur's frown was deep. The poor girl's past was incredibly tragic and the king's heart went out to her. Adaline didn't strike him as being dangerous or devious. Yes, he found her red hair to be quite ostentatious in comparison with most of Camelot's populace but he wasn't about to judge her because her hair was different. Nor was he going to judge her because of her heritage. From what he had seen of her, she was a nice girl with a good soul; not to mention Merlin was attracted to her and the warlock didn't just fall for anybody.

"She will always have a home here in Camelot," Arthur stated with finality. "A person's livelihood should not be measured by what they are or what they look like. It is the character of their heart that should be considered. Adaline has done nothing to cause me to be suspicious of her and you seem to trust her. That's good enough for me."

Merlin looked at Arthur with an expression of pride and joy and the king couldn't help feeling happy to see it. Merlin's approval meant the world to him.

There was a sudden knock on the door before it opened, revealing Daegal who carried a burlap sack over his shoulder with a rather disgusted expression on his face.

"I had to go down to the butcher since there wasn't anything big enough left in the kitchen," he grumbled, stalking past the king towards the napping dragon in the corner. "Do you know how many stairs you have to climb to get back up here while carrying almost thirty pounds on your back?"

"Yes," Merlin answered while Arthur cheekily replied, "No."

Daegal glared angrily at the smirking king.

"Merlin's used to carrying twice that much," Arthur said with a shrug. "I don't see what the big deal is."

"Yes, but I often cast a spell that made it easier to carry all the nonsense you had me lug around," Merlin revealed.

Arthur pretended to be flabbergasted as Daegal snarled, "Well, that's all fine and good then – let those of us who haven't got magic suffer while you cheat, Merlin!"

The warlock laughed. "If you want, I can try to ask Arthur to lighten your loads. Or I could give you sacks that are magically enhanced with weight-lifting charms. You'll be able to put fifty pounds over your shoulders with the bag feeling as light as a feather."

"That would be really nice," Daegal grumbled as he opened the bag and shook out the contents onto the floor. Aithusa perked up immediately and began to dig into the meat with her razor sharp teeth.

Arthur scowled as blood and chunks of meat splattered across the cold stone from the dragon's enjoyment over her meal. "You know," he said to Daegal, "you're going to be scrubbing my chamber floors spotless after she's done eating."

The manservant looked horrified. "What?"

"You just threw a huge slab of raw venison straight onto my floor. What did you think I was going to say?"

Before Daegal could retort, Merlin rested a hand on Arthur's shoulder. "I'll clean the mess, Arthur. Besides, Aithusa is also my responsibility so it's only fair that I clean up after her."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I don't care how it gets done. I just expect this place to be spotless after she's finished."

"Trust me, when I'm done it'll look like there wasn't a chunk of raw meat on the floor at all," Merlin assured while Daegal sent him a thankful look.

"For your sake, Merlin, that had better be the case," Arthur grumbled, wincing as flecks of blood from Aithusa's snapping jaws landed dangerously close to one of his wooden chests.

The meat was gone remarkably fast and Merlin wasted no time waving his hand, removing all traces of Aithusa's mess. As the last of the blood specks fell away, there was a knock on the door.

"Come," Arthur called.

A fiery display of long red hair swept around the door before Adaline's freckled face appeared. "Good morning, my lord," she said as she stepped into the room and curtsied.

Arthur noticed a quick glance was given to Merlin before the girl straightened and smoothed the front of her light brown dress.

"Adaline, what can I do for you?" Arthur asked with a smile.

"My lady sent me," she answered. "She wanted me to inform you that she is ready to accompany you to the last match of the tournament whenever you are able."

"I think that's my cue to fix you up and send you on your way," Merlin muttered.

Before Arthur could ask what he meant by that, Merlin was chanting some gibberish while holding out his hand towards the king. Though Arthur didn't physically see any form of spell heading towards him, he felt the enchantments wrapping around his body like a comforter. Protection, loyalty, and love encompassed him, all reminding him of Merlin. The familiarity was soothing and the king felt his heart warm, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth. When Merlin finished, Arthur felt like nothing could touch him. The king nodded his thanks and Merlin grinned.

"Come on Aithusa," Arthur called as he walked towards the door.

The dragon let out an excited chirp as she launched herself across the room after the king. Nuzzling her head affectionately against his side, Arthur patted it before looking up to see Adaline and Merlin sharing yet another glance.

"Merlin?" he called.

"Yes?"

"I expect you down there on time," he said, briefly looking at Adaline as he grinned. "Come on, Daegal, let's go."

The manservant followed the dragon as Arthur left the room, leaving the two blossoming lovebirds alone. As he walked down the hall towards Guinevere's room, Arthur couldn't help but think how fitting it was for Merlin to fall in love with a girl who was partially a creature of magic. A smile growing on his face, the king hoped that things would work out between the two; Merlin needed someone who could understand him and Arthur had a good feeling that out of all the girls in the world – besides Freya – Adaline was fairly fit to do so.

[][][]

The conclusion of the tournament had caused quite a stir amidst the people. Arthur had seen how the course of a week had transformed their fear into curiosity and later, excitement. As his eyes surveyed the teeming stands, all he saw was eager anticipation. Many in the crowd had bought ribbons representing either the armband of Balthazar - yellow with silver stripes - or the armband of Mordred - a solid royal blue - to wave back and forth. There seemed to be an equal amount of support; even the knights were participating by waving the ribbon of their choice. Arthur noticed that the Round Table Knights had decided to favor Mordred while most of the others supported Balthazar. The king smiled. After all that 'destiny talk' between them, Arthur and Merlin had shared with the others their opinions of the young man and their desire that they treat Mordred with respect and trust. Guinevere had not been happy but she consented due to Arthur's insistence. Silently Arthur hoped Mordred would win the title of champion. It wasn't that the king didn't like Balthazar - the man actually had quite a good heart - he just wanted Mordred to win and be accepted not only by those belonging to the Round Table but the people as well.

"It looks like most of your knights are in support of Balthazar," Annis commented.

The king glanced at the visiting queen's ribbon with a grin. "As you seem to be, Annis."

"I've enjoyed his matches far more than Mordred, I admit."

"As have I," said King Rodor.

Princess Mithian decided to voice her opinion. "I like Mordred," she smiled.

"I'm with you, Princess," King Bayard agreed. "The man's fighting style is direct and quick. He would do well in battle."

"You're not thinking of attempting to recruit him, are you, Bayard?" asked Guinevere.

"Possibly," Bayard answered. "After seeing this tournament, I believe I have been neglecting how advantageous it would be to have sorcerers in my armies. I think I might do what you have done, Arthur; expose my kingdom to magic with a tournament. This has all been rather entertaining."

Arthur grinned. Their conversation was cut short by the appearance of Merlin, the dramatic entrance this time being a whirlwind right in the center of the arena. The warlock had changed his clothes for the occasion, wearing an elaborate red tunic, golden yellow neckerchief, and dark brown trousers. Embroidered into the neckerchief was the Pendragon crest, the dragon being red instead of yellow in order to stand out against the man's chest. Merlin faced the royals and bowed low.

"Your Majesties, my lords and ladies, people of Camelot, welcome to the conclusion of the first Magical Tournament in our beloved city! Today's match will determine our champion. We thank all of those who have participated thus far." - He inclined his head to where the other contestants sat. - "Your skills were remarkable and appreciated by all present. And now, without further delay, I give you Mordred of the Druids and Balthazar of the Far Isles!"

The two contestants walked into the ring to thunderous applause, many on their feet waving their ribbons wildly over their heads. Mordred wore a simple blue tunic with a cream colored undershirt, Balthazar still sporting his long dark coat over a black vest and white tunic. Merlin nodded to both champions, a large smile on his face.

"Mordred, Balthazar, congratulations on making it to the final match. We have watched your battles and each of you have earned many fans." - The crowd cheered excitedly in agreement to that statement. - "As this is the final, we have decided to make things a little more challenging for you."

With a flash of his eyes and a wave of his hand, the air stirred before two small crates appeared at Merlin's feet. Arthur leaned forward, curiosity getting the better of him. What was Merlin up to?

"Inside the crate are five objects that you must use in order to win," Merlin explained. "And only the five items can be used. You may not transfigure the objects into something else – such as changing a ribbon into a chain – but you may animate them to life and alternate their appearance – like shaping a twig to look and act like a snake. You must use every item and you can only use them once. The match will begin when the crates are open and will end when your opponent is unable to continue and you have used all five items given to you. Good luck to both of you."

Merlin then magicked the crates to levitate towards Balthazar and Mordred. Several people were muttering over what could possibly be inside, the royals included.

"Did you know about this?" Guinevere asked.

Arthur shook his head, grinning. "Not at all but I completely approve of it."

"What do you think Merlin put in the crates?" Daegal asked from behind him.

Arthur shrugged. "Knowing Merlin, it won't be anything that any of us expect. We're in for quite a show."

Merlin was now standing at the edge of the ring, waiting for the customary bow between Balthazar and Mordred before signaling the match to begin. Balthazar and Mordred shared a friendly smile before bowing to each other and then nodding to Merlin that they were ready. The warlock raised a hand.

"Begin!" he shouted, his eyes flashing gold as the lid on each crate flew open.

Arthur held his breath in anticipation. Balthazar and Mordred both summoned the items from within and, once revealed, there was a stunned silence followed by a round of unsuppressed laughter. Floating in the air before each bewildered sorcerer was a sock, a potato, a boot, a scroll of parchment, and a small woven basket. Arthur's laughter was loud and deep not only at the ridiculousness of the items but the shocked expressions held by both Mordred and Balthazar. How on earth were they going to use these things to win? The king glanced over at Merlin and found the warlock's eyes twinkling with mirth. He caught Arthur's gaze and winked at him, his trademark grin spread across his face. Arthur shook his head, laughing.

"You were right about one thing, Arthur," Annis chuckled, "I wasn't expecting this."

"Neither were they apparently," Rodor said, indicating the two opposing sorcerers.

Balthazar and Mordred were indeed still fumbling as to what to make of these items. The laughter only intensified, the people highly entertained by the sorcerers' predicament. But the laughter soon died as Balthazar sprung into action, his eyes flaring gold as he muttered to the scroll of parchment. It unfurled immediately, its shape twisting and folding until the form of a paper falcon took off, flapping its wings and diving towards Mordred. The druid wasted no time, flinging his potato like an arrow towards the oncoming bird. It was a good move, seeing as the weight from the vegetable cut through the parchment with ease, ripping the once pretty falcon to shreds.

Mordred's supporters let out a cheer while Balthazar's groaned. The druid didn't let the cheering distract him, however. He was already in the process of using his thick scroll of parchment as a pair of handcuffs, the paper wrapping around Balthazar's wrists and yanking him backwards onto the ground. The older sorcerer used his quick thinking to fling his sock right over Mordred's eyes while also unweaving his basket and using the thick material to wrap around his parchment chains to break them.

Arthur was concerned. Balthazar had now used three of his five items while Mordred had only used two. But the objects were the only things either could use in order to win the match and Balthazar now only had a boot and a potato while Mordred had his basket, boot, and sock still at his disposal. When it came to usefulness, Arthur felt Mordred had the better equipped items in order to subdue Balthazar. Then again, Balthazar was a very impressive sorcerer. He was clever as well as resourceful. If anyone could make a potato and a boot into a lethal weapon, the king had no doubts that he could.

Mordred ripped the sock off his eyes and frowned when noticing Balthazar was back on his feet, his basket now in tatters on the ground, the parchment cuffs useless. The druid waved his hand and whispered a quiet word before his basket shivered and the weave started unraveling from the rounded shape, the loose coils rising up and acting as a snake would. It slithered across the ground towards Balthazar with incredible speed. The sorcerer raised his hand and opened his mouth only to have Mordred's sock jammed into it, preventing him from uttering his spell. Many of Balthazar's supporters cried out in shock as the man gagged on the fabric, distracted from the basket-snake racing towards him.

Balthazar then surprised not only Arthur but Merlin as well. So far the sorcerer had uttered spells in order to use magic but when his eyes lit gold, no words were used as the boot beside him quickly unwove from its stitches, twisted upside down, and slammed down on top of the basket-snake, pinning it to the ground. Then, to everyone's amazement, the boot's leather stretched out and scooped up the basket-snake until it was totally trapped underneath it. Balthazar's supporters threw up a cheer, waving their ribbons vigorously over their heads as the sorcerer yanked the sock out of his mouth and threw it on the ground. The man was out of breath, leaning over himself slightly, his face tinged green. For a moment Arthur thought he was going to be sick but then Balthazar straightened and faced Mordred, his breathing still quick and heavy.

Arthur noticed Merlin's furrowed brow, his silent concern over Balthazar's predicament evident. There were several of the other competitors staring at the man with disbelief and worry. Even Mordred looked troubled. Balthazar lifted his hand and the king noticed it visibly shaking. Something was wrong. Mordred shook his head while Maxim actually shouted from the crowd.

"You're in no condition to fight further, Balthazar! Forfeit!"

"No!" Balthazar snapped before his eyes flashed gold, his potato flying through the air straight at Mordred.

The druid looked regretful but resigned as he muttered a spell and his boot disappeared. Just as Balthazar's potato curved unexpectedly and hit Mordred's head from behind, Mordred's boot reappeared and kicked Balthazar right in the jaw. Both druid and sorcerer went down and there was a stunned silence. Arthur held his breath. One of them had to get up or else it would be a draw and they would have to have a rematch. There was a pregnant pause before Mordred began to stir. The crowd erupted as the druid shakily got to his feet, rubbing the back of his head which was actually bleeding. Just how hard had Balthazar hit him with that potato?

Merlin didn't spare any time announcing Mordred as the winner. Instead he ran across the arena to where Balthazar lay unconscious. He wasn't the only one; Maxim as well as Gilli and Elliani had leapt over the barrier to join him. The crowd, realizing that something was wrong, began to rise to their feet in concern.

" _ **Batian sundorcræftas!"**_ Merlin shouted, slamming the palms of his hands directly over Balthazar's heart.

Balthazar's eyes flew open and he gasped, his body jolting as Merlin's spell coursed through his veins.

"You fool!" Maxim bellowed. "Wordless magic takes an incredible amount of energy and you've never done something so strenuous like that before. You're lucky you didn't die!"

Balthazar smiled weakly up at his friend. "Glad to see you were worried about me."

"I wasn't worried," Maxim snapped, scowling.

The spectators were so quiet that Arthur was sure he wasn't the only one who could hear the discussion. Was wordless magic really that difficult? He'd seen Merlin do it as a child without effort and even more so as an adult. It didn't seem to be hard.

"Have you performed silent spells before?" Merlin asked.

"None that required that much power," Balthazar admitted.

The warlock scowled. "That was rather reckless of you. You nearly stopped your heart."

"Winning wasn't that important, surely?" Elliani frowned.

Balthazar shrugged. "It wasn't but giving the crowd a decent amount of entertainment was. Not to mention I wanted to see if I could do it."

"Next time don't be so careless," Maxim retorted. "Ambition is going to be the death of you some day."

"Is he going to be alright?" Arthur called.

In answer, Merlin stood up and held out a hand. Balthazar took it and rose to his feet, smiling apologetically as the crowd began to clap. Merlin made sure he was supported by Maxim before going over to assess Mordred. The druid was leaning against the wall. Kara was beside him, applying slight pressure to his wound with a handkerchief. Merlin and Mordred exchanged a few words before Merlin nodded and the two stepped away from the wall into the center of the ring.

The noise from the spectators died down just enough for Merlin to shout out, "People of Camelot, I give you your champion! Mordred of the Druids!"

The cheers increased as many rose to their feet, ribbons of blue waving back and forth enthusiastically, hundreds of hands slamming together in jubilation. Arthur rose to his feet and clapped along with the others, a wide smile on his face. When the applause died down, the king addressed Mordred specifically.

"Well done!" he praised, beaming down at the druid who humbly inclined his head. Arthur smiled at him before addressing his people. "This tournament is the beginning of a new age," he stated, "where sorcerers and non-magic peoples will forevermore be free to live together in harmony. To prove this, I am restoring a position of the royal court that has been vacant for over twenty years. My most loyal servant, Merlin Emrys, has accepted my invitation to become Court Sorcerer and First Advisor to the King. The ceremony will take place in two hours in the courtyard and I invite all present to attend."

Thunderous applause shook the stands. Merlin, still standing in the center of the ring with Mordred, was humbled by their praise and highly embarrassed from all the attention. Even so, he handled himself with grace, stooping into a respectful bow towards the king. Arthur smiled and clapped just as warmly as his people, looking on Merlin with pride. After a moment the king waved his hand to restore calm in order to continue. The crowd quieted and if Merlin wiped his eyes, Arthur pretended not to notice.

"Those who have participated in this tournament have also showed immense bravery," Arthur continued, "stepping into the light and being unafraid to prove their valor. In reward for this outstanding courage, as king of this land I, Arthur Pendragon, hereby offer every sorcerer and sorceress an invitation to join the ranks of knighthood and serve Camelot with their talents!"

There was a collective gasp from everyone followed by a roar of approval, many standing on their feet and shouting their support. Arthur was grinning as he stared at the sorcerers. Each one was staring back at him with a mixture of wondrous awe and shocked disbelief on their faces. Merlin was beaming up at the king, pride written in every inch of his features. Arthur waved for the noise to diminish, his people unsurprisingly doing as asked in quick fashion.

"Let this be understood that none are obligated to accept my invitation but I and my people would welcome you with open arms if you did. You do not have to choose now – I know it's rather sudden and you might have other affairs to consider – but I do ask that you give me your answer at tonight's commemoratory feast. Thank you all for participating and joining us in celebrating my union to the lovely Lady Guinevere. Our marriage ceremony will take place tomorrow and will be followed by a celebration in the courtyard where all are free to attend. There will be dancing, the greatest feast Camelot has ever seen, and spectacular magical performances that will last throughout the evening."

The people shouted for joy, their jubilation enlarging Arthur's smile as he turned to Guinevere and held out his hand. His beaming bride-to-be accepted the invitation and joined him, the two waving at the crowd before Arthur started to lead her towards the stairs. The other royals had also gotten to their feet, waiting until Aithusa had passed before following Arthur and Guinevere back up to the castle. Merlin caught up with them a few minutes later, slightly out of breath.

"That was a spectacular performance!" Bayard stated as the group began walking across the courtyard. "Mordred was exemplary!"

"Indeed," Rodor agreed, "This event certainly has given me a lot to think about concerning the laws of my land."

"I'm definitely changing mine," Annis said without hesitation. "Magic has been severely misunderstood by my people. I think it time we remedy that."

Arthur shared a deep smile with Merlin who appeared humbled as well as grateful.

"Are you really serious about knighting the sorcerers, Arthur?" asked Mithian.

"Of course," Arthur answered. "That was the reward Merlin and I had decided to give in the first place. I'm a man of my word. If they want the knighthood, it's theirs. If they don't then we'll give them a large sum of gold and allow them to go wherever they wish. If they choose to stay in Camelot without a knighthood, a portion of land will be given to them for their efforts."

"That's a high reward," Bayard commented.

"It's the right thing to do," Guinevere said before Arthur could. "These people have been falsely oppressed all their lives. The least we can do is give them a home and an abundant livelihood to make up for our callous ignorance."

"Well said, my lady," Rodor praised with an impressed gleam in his kind eyes.

Having reached the steps, the royals dismissed themselves to prepare for the Court Sorcerer ceremony that was to take place in two hours. Once inside the castle, Arthur turned to Guinevere and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

"I'll see you in a while," he promised.

"Alright," she said before leaning in closer to whisper, "Rachel's finished the project you gave her. You kept her up half the night working on that outfit, Arthur. Are you sure Merlin's even going to like it?"

"Whether he likes it or not doesn't matter," Arthur grinned. "It's one of the requirements of the Court Sorcerer."

Guinevere shook her head. "Heaven help us if he creates a blizzard inside the castle because of you."

"Don't give him any ideas." Arthur glanced behind her, unsurprised to see Merlin and Adaline sharing yet another unspoken look. "Merlin?"

The warlock blinked, ending the staring contest to face his king. "Yes?"

"Come on; we've got two hours before your ceremony and I can't have you becoming my official adviser when you smell like you've been rolling around with the pigs."

"I smell fine!" Merlin snapped, his cheeks reddening as he avoided Adaline's gaze. "Are you sure the smell that's assaulting your senses isn't your own odor? Because believe me, Arthur, your dirty socks could kill a griffin without my help."

Both Adaline and Guinevere had to stifle their giggles behind their hands while Daegal snorted into his fist. Even Aithusa seemed to be laughing, her nostrils flaring as several puffs of smoke escaped them. Arthur's cheeks darkened and a scowl pulled at the corners of his mouth. He struck like a cobra, grabbing one of Merlin's large ears between his two fingers and beginning to drag him down the hall.

"Excuse us," he called over Merlin's uncomfortable yelps, "Daegal, fetch some water and bring it to Merlin's chambers. Aithusa, you can stay with Guinevere and Adaline for a while."

"Ouch – Arthur – that hurts!"

"Whatever are you hissing over, _Mer_ lin?" Arthur smirked, yanking his warlock's ear as they turned a corner.

"Alright – alright – I'm sorry!"

Arthur let go of Merlin's ear, folding his arms and glaring at his best friend. "Did you really have to comment on my dirty socks in front of Guinevere?"

"Did _you_ really have to say I smelled like I'd been with the pigs in front of Adaline?" Merlin retorted, also folding his arms.

Arthur felt a twinge of guilt and let out a frustrated sigh. "Alright, we're both at fault – and truthfully both in need of a bath."

"I'm not sharing one with you," Merlin teased.

"And I'm not helping you this time," Arthur rejoined, lightly flicking Merlin's nose.

"Hey," Merlin complained, rubbing it as he followed Arthur down the hall.

The two came to the warlock's chambers and settled at the table waiting for Daegal to appear with the bathwater.

"Tell me something, Merlin," Arthur grinned, playing with an apple he'd picked up from the fruit bowl on the table, "whatever gave you the idea to have Balthazar and Mordred use such ridiculous items in the final match?"

The warlock shrugged while grinning. "It just came to me last night. I guess I wanted to test out their resourcefulness. You never know when you may find yourself in a situation that requires you to use common objects to even the odds."

Arthur snorted. "A potato, Merlin? Really?"

Merlin grinned. "Hey, you know that was a great idea. Balthazar's almost gave Mordred a concussion. Don't ever underestimate the power of a vegetable."

The king let out a bark of laughter, his warlock soon joining him. It was then that Daegal appeared with a few other servants, carrying in buckets of warm water which they proceeded to dump into the tub. After the tub was filled, the servants – minus Daegal – left the room, each inclining their head respectfully to the king.

"You may go prepare my outfit for the ceremony, Daegal," said Arthur while Merlin started unbuckling his boots.

"Which would you like?" Daegal asked, sharing a silent look of confusion with Merlin as to why the king wasn't leaving the warlock to get ready himself.

"My finest armor and chainmail will do," Arthur replied, "and don't forget to polish my crown."

"Yes, the full prat look wouldn't be complete without that," Merlin grinned, ducking as an apple came soaring his way.

"Would you like me to also draw up a bath for you, sire?" asked Daegal, trying to hide the laughter from his voice.

"That won't be necessary," Arthur said with a grin. "You may go."

Daegal, still confused, shrugged his shoulders and left, leaving Merlin and Arthur alone.

"What are you doing?" Merlin demanded as Arthur propped his feet up on the table and stretched.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Arthur answered. "I'm relaxing – you should try it sometime."

Merlin snorted. "I meant, what are you doing still in my chambers when you should be going off to get ready yourself."

"Never you mind," Arthur replied, closing his eyes. "Just take your bath before you run out of time to do so. She should be here in about half an hour."

"She?"

"Yes, Merlin. A woman will be here soon so I suggest you stop wasting time."

The warlock let out a soft string of grumbles that included small curses directed towards his king. Arthur's lips twitched upwards as he caught some of the familiar insults, one being the first Merlin had ever given him when they met all those years ago. Arthur, lost in memory, vaguely heard the water splashing about as the warlock bathed.

"Alright, what are you up to?" Merlin asked after he'd finished successfully washing his hair.

Arthur glanced over at him, smiling as the image of a much smaller version of his warlock came to mind. For a brief moment the king had the sudden urge to shove Merlin's head under the water. He was suddenly grateful to be sitting at the table instead of in front of the tub; it would have been embarrassing doing such a thing to an adult rather than a child.

"What's wrong with sitting here while you bathe, Merlin? You've been in my current position many times – although you should have been doing chores in those situations."

Merlin grinned. "I saw nothing wrong with taking advantage of you being distracted in your own vanity in order to relax."

"Shut up Merlin." Arthur was unprepared for the small amount of water that smacked into his face. "MERLIN!" he spluttered, wiping his eyes.

The warlock let out a delighted laugh. "Yep, it's still just as hilarious doing that as an adult as it was as a child!"

Arthur glared at him, water dripping off the edge of his nose and the tips of his bangs. "You're lucky I'm not stalking over there and shoving bath salt down your throat."

"What's stopping you, Arthur? You didn't seem to have any trouble being at the side of the tub when I was five."

"Stop being an idiot! You're no longer a child and therefore I'm being decent in giving you privacy! Now hurry up and finish already. You've been in there long enough."

"Arthur, there's no need to be embarrassed. I've seen you–"

" _Merlin!"_

"Shut up?"

"YES!"

The warlock chuckled and the king indignantly grabbed another apple and threw it at the back of his head. The chuckling was cut short as Merlin hissed in pain while rubbing the spot the apple had hit, Arthur grinning in satisfaction.

"Prat," Merlin griped.

"Idiot," Arthur grinned.

A few minutes later Merlin finished and got out of the tub, cleaning out the water and reheating it after wrapping himself in a towel. He then whispered a spell and Arthur's armor appeared on the table, including the clothing he wore beneath the chainmail as well as his boots. All were freshly polished, glimmering in the sunlight coming through the windows.

"Hop in then," the warlock said as he walked over to the partition to finish drying himself off and changing into a pair of trousers.

Arthur raised an amused eyebrow. "How did you know?"

"You normally don't linger about when you need to get ready for a ceremony, Arthur," Merlin said, coming out from behind the partition to throw a towel into the king's face. "Besides, I know what you're trying to do. You want to distract me so I won't have a panic attack."

Drat, he'd figured it out. Arthur sighed, shaking his head and standing up. "Why is it that you can always see right through me and what I'm trying to do?"

"I'd ask the same of you," Merlin muttered in reply.

Arthur shrugged, trying to downplay his vulnerability as he expressed his feelings. "This is probably the most important day of your life, Merlin. You're about to become Court Sorcerer. It's natural for you to be freaking out. I know I was a nervous wreck the day I was crowned king. You stayed by my side every waking minute of that day and, though I didn't admit it at the time, your presence calmed my nerves. I want to do the same for you."

There was a sudden knock on the door, interrupting the moment and Arthur offered to get it since Merlin was busy wiping his cheeks. Rachel was revealed on the other side, her arms laden down with thick material and a rather curious hat. Arthur grinned.

"Rachel, come in!"

"Thank you, my lord," she muttered, walking inside and setting the fine clothes on Merlin's bed.

"What is all that?" Merlin asked.

Arthur picked up the hat and turned to face his Court Sorcerer, an evil grin climbing his cheeks as his eyes flashed deviously. "This, Merlin, is the official outfit of Camelot's Court Sorcerer."

Merlin stared at the hat in horror. "You have _got_ to be _kidding me!"_

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 **Oh a cliffhanger. I'm not sorry so I won't apologize. :) Next chapter we'll have an official Court Sorcerer walking around Camelot's halls! And what will he be wearing?! *smirks evilly* We'll just have to find out. I hope you guys are okay with Adaline and Merlin. Don't misunderstand, I'm a HUGE die-hard Freylin fan but I couldn't think of a way to get Freya involved in the story without doing something I've already done in other things I've written. Besides, Adaline is an interesting character. I tried to make the conflict for Merlin understandable and believable; it is possible to fall in love with more than one person in a lifetime after all. And this isn't the last of Freya for this tale. She'll show up again, I can promise you that!**

 **So, on a different note, thank you all for your patience with the slower updates. They're going to continue to be so, I'm afraid, seeing as I'm getting married next week. Also, two weeks ago my mom was diagnosed with Leukemia. Yeah, I'm not going to lie, life's really hard right now. But, never fear, Merlin fans! This story is a relief and a comfort for me as well as your reviews. I will update again - hopefully in the next two weeks. Thank you for the many birthday wishes. I needed them so much - especially since that was the day I learned about my mom's cancer. You guys really lift me up and I hope I can return the favor with this story. I gave you a long chapter this time as thanks! See you all in the near future, I hope. :)**

 **\- Pumpkinmoose22**


	19. Chapter 19

**I'm back and happily married! Whew, what a ride it's been! I'm still settling into my new life but I managed to find some time so I could get this out to all of you. The updates will still be a little slow but they'll keep coming, I promise. Guess what guys?! MY MOTHER IS CANCER FREE! She went through seven straight days of chemotherapy and then another week of healing after that. Her vitals all went back to normal in that time and she was successfully discharged from the hospital three days ago! She's happy and her recovery is something the doctors have never seen before. Thank you to all those who thought of her and wished and prayed for the best. A miracle happened and I am so grateful. Life is great and I'm so excited to come back to this story. I've missed Arthur and Merlin something fierce. This chapter is one of my absolute favorites so far and I really hope that I get a lot of reviews for it. I desperately want to know what you guys think! Alright, enough rambling from me - on with the chapter you've all patiently been waiting for!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

* * *

19: The Court Sorcerer

"No."

"You don't have a say, Merlin."

"Yes I do and the answer is _no_ , Arthur."

Arthur rolled his eyes at Rachel who was watching the exchange with silent amusement. "Rachel spent a great amount of time making this outfit for you and whether you like it or not, you're wearing it!"

The king then strode over and jammed the rather curious hat onto Merlin's head. The warlock scowled as Arthur stepped back to admire the look. The hat itself was like none the king had ever seen. It was made of a soft yet stiff material, the dark brown coloring handsome and matching the floor-length jacket Rachel had made to accompany it. The hat's brim was wide, a large circle extending outward several inches in circumference, a large stripe of red cloth looping around the base while the brown material continued upwards before flopping backward into a point. It had been sewn together with golden thread – like the rest of the outfit – giving it just enough of an elegant shine while not drawing attention.

"It oddly suits you, Merlin," Arthur commented as the warlock's cheeks darkened to match the red stripe of the hat.

"Of course it does!" Rachel huffed. "I made it specifically with him in mind. You said you wanted something unique and that's what sprung from my imagination. Don't worry, I've made more than just that one, all different colors and a little different in style – can't have you wearing the same hat all the time, can we?"

"You put her up to this?" Merlin snarled at the king, his eyes flashing dangerously.

Undeterred by the murderous glint in his warlock's eyes, Arthur proudly grinned while nodding. "I thought we'd give you something unique, Merlin."

"Unique," the warlock muttered, glancing at his reflection in the nearest mirror. "It's definitely that," he grumbled, folding his arms over his bare chest.

Noticing that Rachel was beginning to stare at all of Merlin's scars, Arthur cleared his throat and gently ushered her from the room. "You can bring the other outfits to him later," he muttered. "Thanks for all your hard work, Rachel."

She curtseyed to him at the door, her eyes peering over his shoulder at Merlin curiously. "Let me know if you need any last minute adjustments."

"We will," Arthur smiled before closing the door and turning to face the wrath of his glowering friend.

Now that Rachel was out of sight, Merlin whipped the hat off his head and slammed it down on the table. "I'm not wearing that, Arthur! It's embarrassing!"

"I could always ask Rachel to make a different hat with lots of feathers…"

Merlin's face paled. "Don't even joke about that… that hat you made me wear all those years ago was one of the worst things I've ever had to put on my head."

Arthur grinned. "Then the pointy hat should be fine." Merlin scoffed, fingering the brim with distaste. "Come on, Merlin," Arthur tried again, walking over to him, "it's not that bad. At least the point doesn't stick straight up."

Merlin was appalled by the very idea. "Don't suggest that to her, Arthur. I mean it. If you do, I'll turn you into a squirrel for a day!"

Arthur chuckled, walking away from him to pick up the rest of the outfit Rachel had brought. He nodded in approval at what he saw. "Everything else looks great," he commented, holding up the dark blue tunic that was to be worn under a handsome brown leather vest.

Merlin came over, leaving the hat on the table. The warlock's jaw dropped. "Is that _gold_ thread?" he asked, his voice hollow.

"Indeed it is, Merlin," Arthur grinned, patting his rather overwhelmed best friend on the shoulder. "I suggest you change. I still have to get myself ready or else I'd help you."

Merlin scowled at him. "Only prats need someone to help them change, Arthur."

The king playfully shoved him before undressing as he walked over to the still steaming tub. The clothes he left on the floor magically picked themselves up as Merlin directed them to hang on a nearby chair, the warlock shaking his head fondly while Arthur smiled knowingly at him.

"Dollophead," Merlin muttered as he picked up his new clothes and walked behind the partition.

Arthur laughed before dunking his head underwater, beginning his bath.

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The king stood on a platform that had been erected in the middle of the courtyard. His most trusted knights had set up a perimeter around it as well as a pathway that went right up the steps into the citadel. A magnificent red carpet ran down the stairs towards the platform, the edges lined in gold. The sun was lowering into the later afternoon hours, bathing the courtyard in a warm golden glow. The people had assembled, filling the entire space. The visiting royals were standing on the inside of the perimeter set up by the knights along with Gaius, Guinevere, and – though Merlin had no idea – his mother, Hunith.

Arthur had sent a squadron of knights headed by Sir Bedivere to fetch her for the special event. The men had been sad to miss the rest of the Magical Tournament but were more than willing to accept the task when they found out exactly who it was the king wanted them to invite and escort to the Court Sorcerer's ceremony. Hunith stood next to Adaline in a remarkable blue gown befitting any noblewoman in the land, her hair pulled back in a long braid that extended over her shoulder. A warm smile lit up her face, her eyes already brimming with unshed tears. Arthur smiled at her, nodding discreetly as he felt her unspoken gratitude radiating towards him.

Aithusa and Kilgharrah had been invited to the momentous occasion but, due to their size, both dragons decided to lazily circle overhead, their shadows swirling across the crowd providing unexpected relief from the sun's rays. Arthur managed to pick out the druids amidst the people along with the lords and the sorcerers that would soon become knights if they chose to accept his invitation. Everyone was ready, all eagerly waiting with anticipation for the king to give the cue for the ceremony to start.

Taking a deep breath, Arthur unsheathed Excalibur and rested the point on the platform, holding it firmly with both hands at the hilt. Nodding to the guards at the top of the steps, the two men opened the doors, revealing the soon to be Court Sorcerer to the crowd below. Merlin stepped out of the shadows in the outfit Rachel had made, the golden thread glinting in the sunlight as the wide brim of his hat shielded his face in shadow. Arthur's smile was warm as he watched his brother regally descend the steps towards the platform where he stood waiting for him.

Merlin had voiced his fear that the people would burst out laughing at the sight of him but he didn't realize just how well he pulled the outfit off. The slightly floppy pointed hat was actually rather stylish and matched perfectly with his outgoing, vivacious personality. The floor-length dark brown jacket billowed outwards, revealing beneath it the handsome brown leather vest, red neckerchief, blue tunic, dark trousers, and polished brown boots Rachel had assembled. It was symbolic, Arthur decided, that Merlin's outfit appeared similar to what he used to wear as a man of no consequence. It showed that though he was about to become a noble he was still the same Merlin that everyone had always known.

Arthur's smile grew as his brain quickly filtered through memories of some of his most cherished moments with the warlock from the moment they met to Merlin raising his spirits and helping him recognize his destiny as the Once and Future King. By the time Merlin climbed the platform where Arthur stood waiting for him, the king was having to fight back the sting of gratitude threatening to fall from his eyes. The warlock raised an eyebrow as he sent Arthur a small smile. Arthur nodded to him, schooling his grin to an accepting smile. Merlin's smile grew and he took his distinctive hat from his head and set it off to the side as he knelt on the ground before his sovereign, his head bowed respectfully. Arthur's gaze softened and his nerves disappeared as he focused solely on Merlin.

Kneeling before him was a man greater than any other, one who -for some unfathomable reason- had dedicated his life to _him_ , an imperfect king who had made countless mistakes. Merlin was the epitome of all that was good, Arthur's guiding compass when all else seemed lost. If it weren't for him, Arthur never would have become the king he was destined to be. He owed Merlin everything and he was so happy that at this moment, he could finally give the warlock something he'd been dreaming of for most of his life: a place where he and his magic would belong.

"Merlin Emrys," he stated with brotherly affection and gratitude, "last of the Dragonlords, King of the Druids, and Protector of the Once and Future King… my brother in all but blood–"

Arthur paused, his voice catching in his throat. Merlin lifted his head a little to smile encouragingly at him. Arthur quickly gained control of his emotions and continued.

"Will you solemnly swear to use your magic, your talents, and all your knowledge to protect your king and the people of this land?"

Merlin grinned. Both of them knew it was a silly question since the warlock had been doing this from the moment he'd set foot in Camelot; the only reason Arthur voiced it was because it was necessary protocol.

"I solemnly swear so to do," Merlin answered.

Arthur smiled. "Will you promise to give your king sound counsel and advice for the benefit, protection, and strengthening of this kingdom?"

"I will."

"And will you solemnly swear fealty to me, Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot?"

Merlin lifted his head, his eyes locking with those of his sovereign. "I solemnly swear, my king, to be your servant forever – even in death."

For a moment Arthur couldn't speak. So overwhelmed was he, it took everything he had just to keep himself from crying in front of all his people. The loyalty, the love, the devotion in Merlin's tone was unmistakable. The man would die for him without a second thought were it required. Arthur's heart swelled and gratitude coursed through him as he beamed down at the man who meant the world to him. The king then lifted Excalibur, the blade glinting brilliantly in the afternoon sun. He placed the flat side of the sword against one of Merlin's shoulders and then the other, similarly as he would when bestowing a knighthood.

"Arise, Merlin Emrys, Court Sorcerer of Camelot and First Adviser to the King."

A cheer rent the air, the courtyard exploding in jubilation as Merlin rose to his feet. Sheathing Excalibur, Arthur stepped forward and gently took Merlin's head in his hands, kissing his brow. King and Warlock stared into each other's eyes with brotherly love before the two embraced, tears mingling with their laughter.

"Congratulations, old friend," Arthur muttered.

When he pulled away, Merlin was wiping his cheeks, the largest grin Arthur had ever seen displayed on his elven face. Two majestic roars shook the air as Aithusa and Kilgharrah voiced their happiness, many jumping as fire lit the sky overhead. Merlin chuckled as he grinned up at his dragons, waving to them from the ground. Arthur clapped his shoulder, shaking it slightly to get his attention. Merlin glanced at him as Arthur indicated to the crowd and the warlock froze in surprise.

"Mother?"

Hunith was beaming up at her son, tears falling down her face. Arthur gently shoved the warlock and the man took off down the platform, rushing into the arms of the one who'd brought him into the world. Arthur watched as mother and son embraced, warmth spreading through him as he remembered the brief time he'd had with his own mother during his unconsciousness a few weeks ago. Gaius hugged Merlin next, followed by each of the knights, Percival giving him a bear-hug after Gwaine finished his embrace by messing up the warlock's hair.

As Guinevere looped her arms around her best friend's neck, Arthur bent down and picked up Merlin's hat, brushing it off a bit before descending the steps himself, a huge grin on his face. He replaced the hat on its owner's head just before Adaline could step up for her own congratulatory remarks. Merlin glared at Arthur, blushing a little as the fair half-elf commented on how much she liked it. Arthur's smirk grew; he had a feeling Merlin wouldn't be complaining about the hat anymore.

It appeared that everyone wanted a chance to congratulate Merlin so Arthur left him in the courtyard, heading towards the steps where he'd be out of the way. He was halfway up the staircase when someone gently grabbed his wrist.

"Hunith!" he said with surprise. "I thought you'd be down in the crowd."

With tears in her eyes, the older woman pulled the King of Camelot into her arms. "Thank you," she whispered, "thank you _so much."_

Arthur may have come a long way when it came to physical affection but receiving hugs from others was still something he had difficulties with; Guinevere – and apparently Merlin – being the exception. He stood frozen in place for a moment, slightly panicked over what to do, before forcing himself to relax and return Hunith's embrace.

"It was the least I could do after all he's done for me," Arthur smiled as they broke apart, the separation allowing him to see down into the crowd where Merlin was currently surrounded by Sirs Kay, Bedivere, and Owen, all of them laughing without a care in the world.

"While I am grateful from the bottom of my heart, I do not understand how all of this came to be," Hunith admitted. "I arrived only last night and Gaius didn't feel it was his place to explain."

Arthur smiled and took her shoulder. "I'll be happy to explain it all to you, Hunith. You deserve to know. Why don't we wait until Merlin's free and then we can meet in his chambers? We should have enough time to go over everything before the feast tonight."

"Oh, I don't want to keep you," Hunith objected, "If there are other matters that need your attending."

"You're in luck," Arthur grinned, "as I happen to have free time to spend it as I wish until the feast."

Hunith smiled. "Alright then. Merlin and I will come find you when I can pull him away from the crowd."

Arthur laughed. "Good luck with that."

Hunith smiled. "If you needed him, I'm sure he'd find a way to disappear."

Arthur remembered the time when Merlin had indeed disappeared right after he'd become a five year old, resulting in a game of hide and seek. The king smirked. "Of that I have no doubt."

Hunith then excused herself only to be replaced by Guinevere. Arthur smiled down at her, taking her hand and making his way up the steps into the citadel. The stone walls immediately blocked the noise coming from the courtyard, the silence welcome in Arthur's ears. The two stopped at a window, looking out at the vast gathering below.

"I've never seen him so happy," Guinevere commented as she rested her head on Arthur's shoulder.

The king kissed the top of her dark curls. "Nor I."

"I've never seen you shed so many tears in public either."

Arthur stiffened, his cheeks reddening in embarrassment. "Was it noticeable?"

Guinevere kissed him on the cheek. "Only to those who were close to the platform."

"Great," Arthur groaned, "my allies will now believe me to be as dangerous as a newborn calf."

Her laugh filled the corridor, causing the king to smile despite his anxiety. Guinevere squeezed his hand soothingly. "Don't be ridiculous, Arthur, all of them know you are the best fighter in the five kingdoms."

"And the biggest girl," he mumbled.

Guinevere swatted his chest. "And what is so wrong with being a girl?"

"Nothing," he quickly amended due to her scrutiny.

Guinevere rolled her eyes before smiling and shaking her head. "Displaying emotion in times of joy is not a weakness, Arthur, but a strength. It is good for the people and your allies to see how much you love and care about those you trust. It strengthens and inspires them to be better themselves."

Arthur looped his arms around her, gazing into her endearing brown eyes before thanking her with a kiss. "You and Merlin will be the reason this kingdom stands in the years to come," he muttered gratefully. "Where would I be without either of you?"

"Six feet under, I imagine," someone said sarcastically behind him, ruining the moment.

Arthur turned to see Merlin standing there grinning under his hat, his mother and Daegal at his side. Turning to the new manservant, the warlock muttered, "See Daegal? I told you that he wouldn't be too hard to find. You should take better care to watch the prat's movements; if you're not careful, he could slip away without you."

"Though my escape appears not to have evaded your notice, I see," Arthur commented, grinning at his Court Sorcerer.

Merlin folded his arms, looking as regal and proud as any noble ought to be. "Of course not," he smugly answered. "I've had nearly a decade to practice being your shadow, Arthur. Although, your ego is so big that it's easy enough to find you; I just have to follow the Prat Trail you leave behind."

Arthur stepped forward and yanked on the brim of Merlin's hat, pulling it over his eyes.

"Hey!" he complained.

Arthur laughed, "I would have hit you over the head but I had to improvise – for obvious reasons."

Merlin attempted to scowl but his grin soon won out. Smirking, Arthur turned to Guinevere, kissing her on the forehead. "I have to meet with these two but I'll see you tonight at the feast," he promised.

"I'll be ready," she assured before walking down the hall where Adaline stood waiting for her.

Dismissing Daegal to help with the evening preparations, Arthur invited Merlin and Hunith to follow him to the warlock's room where they then spent the next three hours going over everything that happened from Gaius's near kidnapping to Merlin's restoration and the reclaiming of Camelot. Hunith sat back in her chair, shaking her head.

"All those years of telling you to keep your magic a secret and you go and tell the King of Camelot," she sighed.

"It's not my fault, mother," Merlin defended, "I was five."

"By that age you knew not to tell anyone, Merlin," Hunith scowled. "If Arthur hadn't cared for you, you would have been burnt at the stake."

Arthur shuffled back and forth in his seat. "Even if we weren't close, I wouldn't have murdered a child, Hunith," he assured. "I am not my father. The worst thing that could have happened was Merlin being banished from Camelot, returning on pain of death. But even if that were the case, I would have made sure he was returned to your care. I would never abandon a child in the woods magical or not."

"Thank you, sire," Hunith smiled gratefully, patting his forearm. "I still can't believe the man Merlin used to dream about was you."

"I have wondered about how such a thing could occur," Arthur muttered.

"Well, obviously by magic," Merlin sarcastically supplied.

Arthur gave him a look, clearly indicating for him to shut up. Merlin grinned.

Hunith's brow furrowed in thought. "I don't know much about the Old Religion but from what Balinor and Gaius taught me I've come to understand everything that happens within it occurs for a reason. Perhaps you dreamt of Arthur all those years ago, Merlin, so that when this happened you would already know and trust him."

"Yeah, so much so that I blabbed about my magic without a thought," Merlin sighed.

"Even though the reveal of your secret was unorthodox, I'm grateful you were a child when I found out," said Arthur sincerely. "I honestly don't know what would have happened if I'd discovered it some other way, Merlin. The precarious situation helped me focus past my anger, allowing me to see things that I might not have had you been as old as you truly are."

"I've wanted to tell you so many times," Merlin began.

"I know," Arthur smiled.

"I'm afraid it's my fault for pressing him to keep it secret," Hunith muttered. "I'm sorry he had to hide such a huge part of himself from you, Arthur. You've repeatedly proven that you have a good heart. I should have trusted you more."

"Your guidance kept Merlin alive," Arthur consoled. "If it hadn't been for your strict counsel, I fear the idiot would have lost his head the moment he'd arrived in Camelot."

"Hey, I'm not that clumsy," Merlin rejoined. "I was able to hide it from you for seven years! And here I thought hunters and warriors were supposed to be observant."

"Merlin," Hunith scolded though Arthur was grinning.

Shaking his head, he stood. "We are, _Mer_ lin, which is why I'm observant of the time and you seem to not be. I need to be going in order to prepare properly for the feast."

"You're just finding an excuse to run because you don't have a better comeback," the warlock grinned.

"No, I'm leaving because I care about my appearance, idiot," Arthur replied. "I can't very well knight all of those sorcerers without looking my best."

"I thought the feast was to celebrate _my_ promotions," Merlin said with a raised eyebrow.

Arthur grinned. "Careful, Merlin, with that kind of arrogance and conceited thinking you'll really turn into a nobleman."

Merlin smirked. "Prat."

"Idiot," the king laughed, yanking his hat down over his eyes.

"That's going to become your new favorite thing, isn't it?" Merlin grumbled as his chuckling mother helped straighten the headwear.

"Yep!" Arthur called cheerfully over his shoulder as he strode to the door. "Oh, and Merlin? Make sure to arrive on time. You'll embarrass me otherwise."

"And we can't have that, can we? After all, we must keep up appearances," the warlock answered, rolling his eyes.

Arthur laughed, leaving the two alone, shaking his head all the while.

[][][]

Mary, Camelot's famous cook, had truly outdone herself. When Arthur entered the hall with Merlin at his side an hour later, the tables were filled with several helpings of salted pork, mashed potatoes, mixed vegetables, fruit arrangements, pastries, and cooked venison. The aromas tantalized Arthur's nose and his stomach growled in anticipation. The king tried to ignore his watering mouth; he couldn't sit down to eat just yet since he first had to knight the sorcerers that had decided to join his ranks. The room was full of nobles, druids, knights, and visiting royalty, all of them ceasing conversation to clap at the appearance of the newly appointed Court Sorcerer and the King.

Arthur strode across the room until he stood at the head table, Merlin coming to a stop on his right side. Out of the corner of his eye, the king noticed Guinevere and motioned for her to join him; as his betrothed, she deserved to be at his side. She wore a magnificent blue gown, delicate silver jewelry hanging from her ears and neck. She was stunning. Arthur tenderly smiled at her before addressing the gathered assembly.

"We welcome all of you to this bounteous feast where we will honor our newly appointed Court Sorcerer, Merlin, a man who has brought nothing but goodwill to this kingdom. Before we start the celebrations, however, I extended an invitation to our tournament contestants to join the knights of Camelot. Those who wish to do so may now step forward to receive their knighthood."

His eyes swept the room and he was pleased when every single contestant broke away from the crowd. Elliani, the shortest of the gathered group, was the last to venture away from Percival's side, the young woman sending a nervous glance towards the knight. Percival smiled at her encouragingly. Arthur raised a curious eyebrow. Was something going on between those two? The king set the thought aside to think about later. Facing all the sorcerers, he nodded in approval, but before he could address them, Elliani stepped forward.

"Sire," she curtsied, "may I be given permission to speak freely?"

"Of course," Arthur invited, a little surprised.

"I do not speak for my fellow sorcerers but for myself," she said, swallowing nervously. "With all due respect, your majesty, I would like to decline your invitation to become a knight."

There was a small round of shock followed by whispers that permeated the hall. Arthur glared at the nobles who appeared offended that such an offer would be turned down. His stern gaze silenced the mutters and he turned his frown into a comforting smile as he addressed the young witch.

"You are brave to speak your mind, Elliani," he complimented. "I have no qualms with your decision."

"Thank you, sire," she said, her small form seeming to gain confidence from his caring words. "May I share my reasons?"

"If you feel you need to," Arthur kindly answered, silently implying that she wasn't required to do so.

Elliani smiled gratefully, gathering her courage. "I was not blessed with the ability to fight, my lord. I entered the tournament because my dream since I was a little girl has been to serve the Once and Future King with my cooking skills. If you would allow, I would love to join the ranks of your kitchen staff and help make meals for you. I promise the magic I use in the kitchen will only help with preparation and cooking time. I never use it to taint the things I make in any way."

Arthur blinked, staring at Elliani in astonishment. "You want to cook for me?" he asked dumbly, dignity temporarily forgotten.

Merlin chuckled. "That does appear to be what she's asking."

"Shut up Merlin," he automatically muttered.

Everyone was staring at Elliani with just as much surprise as the king; even her fellow competitors. Though her cheeks were tinged pink, the young sorceress stood her ground.

"Please, sire," she requested, her gaze fiery and her countenance fierce.

Her determination and ferocity to ask for what she desired was the deciding factor for Arthur. If she wanted to cook instead of fight, who was he to stop her from obtaining her dream? It would be cruel to deny her. She'd shown great courage, revealing herself as a sorceress and participating in the tournament so she could ask this very question. She could have applied to be on the kitchen staff and kept her magic hidden but she'd decided otherwise; a mark of bravery if Arthur had ever seen one.

"What do you think?" he asked, turning to Merlin.

The warlock was deep in contemplation for a moment before his face cleared. "I have no problems with it – if she swears to me in the Old Religion that she will never try to harm you."

Arthur frowned. "Is that really necessary?"

"Yes," Merlin stated and the king was surprised by how serious his warlock appeared to be concerning the matter. His gaze was steady, his conviction firm, and Arthur knew from that look that no matter what he said, Merlin's mind was made up; he wasn't going to allow Elliani anywhere near the palace kitchens unless she performed the oath he required.

Arthur sighed. "Very well. Elliani, are you willing to do as Merlin has asked?"

The young witch nodded. "I am."

"Please step forward," Arthur invited. "Does anyone else have the desire not to be a knight?" The other sorcerers shook their heads, some staring at Elliani in amusement as she approached the warlock. Arthur nodded to himself. "Alright then; we'll proceed with the knighting ceremony after the oath."

Elliani surprised him then by kneeling before Merlin and taking his right hand. Bowing her head, she spoke in that gibberish language only sorcerers knew and Merlin replied similarly, his eyes flashing a brilliant shade of gold. A blue light sprung into existence, looping and intertwining itself around and between Merlin and Elliani's interlocked fingers. The two spoke more gibberish at the same time before the blue light disappeared and Merlin helped the young woman to her feet.

"Thank you," Merlin smiled at her, his skin paler than usual.

"Thank _you_ , Emrys," she returned, curtsying to him and Arthur before walking back over to where Percival stood, her face glowing with happiness.

Arthur's eyes narrowed as he observed his best friend. Merlin smiled at him, obviously trying to wave off his concern, but the king refused to be fooled. After the knighting ceremony, he was going to demand Merlin explain himself. He suspected that spell had taken a great amount of effort and he wanted to know why. Setting all of this aside, the king unsheathed Excalibur and asked the remaining sorcerers to kneel. He then proceeded to knight each one of them, smiling kindly at Mordred as he tapped Excalibur against his shoulders. The hall filled with the sound of applause as the knights rose to their feet and Arthur declared for the feast to begin.

After everyone was seated, he turned to Merlin. "Alright, what was all that about?" he demanded as Daegal filled his goblet with wine.

"What was what about?" Merlin hedged while cutting up his pork.

"That thing you did with Elliani."

"You look pale, Merlin. Is that a side effect from what you did just now?" Guinevere commented, trying to help Arthur break the warlock's reluctance.

"I'm fine, Gwen."

"Merlin, don't lie to us," said Arthur.

The warlock's shoulders sagged as the unspoken 'no more secrets' mantra hung in the air. "I've never actually performed an oath like that in the Old Religion," he finally admitted. "It takes a lot of concentration and energy when you swear on your life in the Old Tongue. It's a promise that, if broken, results in death."

"Why on earth would you make that poor girl give such an oath?" Guinevere demanded, horrified.

"Because Arthur's life was at stake," Merlin answered. "I trust Elliani but magic where food is concerned can be a dangerous gamble. If anyone were to take control of Elliani's mind and make her spike Arthur's food with poison, nobody would know until it was already too late. Now that she's said the oath, if such a thing was to happen, Elliani would die before the rogue sorcerer was able to accomplish their designs. It may have been cruel but I did what I felt needed to be done in order to protect my king. I don't regret it either even though it took a great amount of energy to do so."

"Self-sacrificing idiot," Arthur grumbled, stabbing his potatoes and shaking his head.

Of course Merlin would do something like that!

"That was very noble of you, my son," Hunith spoke up from Merlin's other side.

"Noble but stupid," Gaius commented on Hunith's right.

Arthur snorted into his goblet, coughing a little as he laughed. Same old Gaius; unafraid to put the most powerful warlock of all time in his place.

"I know it wasn't wise but it had to be done," Merlin said, defending himself.

"You know how dangerous it is to meddle with things you've never tried before. You could have passed out, Merlin," Gaius chided. "You need to be more careful. Just because you can now use magic out in the open doesn't mean that you should forget to use that brain of yours."

"Merlin has a brain?" Arthur asked, grinning as the warlock glared at him.

"I do, actually, and I'm using it just fine," Merlin ground out. "I just need to eat to replenish my energy."

"Well, don't eat too much," Arthur teased, "We don't want you getting fat."

"That's your job," Merlin rejoined.

Arthur shoved him lightly with his shoulder.

Dinner progressed well into the evening hours, magical performances from the knights and druids entertaining the hall and eliciting requests. Arthur enjoyed it all, particularly when Merlin used his magic to spill a goblet of wine down Gwaine's front when he started flirting with Adaline.

"Jealous?" Arthur teased.

Merlin returned to his plate. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Arthur chuckled knowingly before taking another bite full of potatoes.

It wasn't until the night was growing late that the king decided that if he and Merlin were going to the Lake of Avalon then they needed to get going; his wedding was tomorrow, after all, and he didn't want to be sleep deprived for such an event.

He leaned over to Guinevere. "Tomorrow," he whispered in her ear.

The fair maiden stilled, her cheeks catching fire. "Yes," she sheepishly smiled, glancing over at him, "Tomorrow."

He kissed her temple and squeezed her hand before standing. "Come on, Merlin."

"But I haven't finished my pie," the warlock protested.

"You'll get over it. We've got a long journey ahead and I won't have you keeping me out all night."

"Fine," Merlin sighed, standing up. "I'll go and prepare the horses."

"Good man," Arthur praised, clapping him on the back. After giving Daegal the night off, Arthur wandered over to where Leon sat next to Bedivere.

At the king's approach, both knights stood.

"Merlin and I have something we have to do," Arthur muttered. "I trust you can handle affairs in my absence."

"May we inquire as to where you're going?" asked Leon.

Knowing that he did not ask to pry but to be aware of his whereabouts, Arthur decided to answer truthfully. "The Lake of Avalon," he revealed. Leon's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Keep this to yourselves," Arthur stressed.

"Of course, sire," Leon and Bedivere answered at the same time, inclining their heads.

Arthur nodded before making another decision. "And should you need magical help for any reason, go to Mordred first."

The two knights glanced at the young sorcerer before nodding to the king in consent. Arthur clapped both men on the shoulder before leaving the hall, smiling kindly at any who made eye contact with him. As soon as he was out in the corridor Arthur quickened his pace, reaching the courtyard several minutes later where Merlin already stood waiting for him, his hand gently rubbing the noses of Ares and Rhith.

"You know, the last time we took these two out of the city it didn't bring good fortune," Arthur commented.

Merlin smiled. "I disagree seeing as now you know about my magic and have started your own destiny. Besides, the only reason Alator's spell hit me was because I didn't dare use my magic in front of you before."

"Right," Arthur muttered, patting Ares dark neck before hoisting himself into the saddle. "Well, let's hope that now I do know about it you'll be able to defend yourself properly."

"Believe me, Arthur, I won't hold back from now on," Merlin promised with an impish grin before climbing into his own saddle.

The king flicked his reins and Ares took off, his hooves clicking noisily across the courtyard as they made their way out of the gates. Arthur didn't slow the pace until they were well within the safety of the trees, traveling on a dirt road that would eventually lead to the lake. Merlin pulled up beside him, his gaze on the road but his thoughts far away.

"You know, at this point you're supposed to be conversing to the point of annoyance, Merlin," Arthur prompted, trying to ease the warlock from his silent contemplations.

Merlin glanced at him, a fake smile lifting the corners of his mouth. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Arthur's brow furrowed, all traces of a smile forgotten as worry took hold. "Merlin, what's on your mind?"

The warlock sighed, shaking his head softly. "I'm just afraid that this might not be for the best."

Arthur frowned. "I never took you for a coward, Merlin."

"I'm not!"

"Then why are you afraid?"

"I don't want Freya to end up hating me!" Merlin snapped. "I couldn't stand it if she…" he shook his head again in despair.

Arthur bit his lip. Like Merlin, he didn't know how Freya was going to react – how could he when he hardly knew the woman? – but he didn't want to leave Merlin alone with his insecurities. What exactly could he say to help his friend?

"It's alright, Arthur."

"Huh?"

Merlin smiled at him. "I know what you're trying to do – when you think hard it's easy for me to read you – but you don't need to worry about me."

Arthur scowled. "Yes I do! If I don't then you'll start thinking that I don't care."

"I wouldn't think that."

"Can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me that never in the past did you wonder if I really cared about you when I would act callously towards your advice or concerns?"

Merlin's brow furrowed and, though ARthur expected it, it still hurt when the warlock looked away, confirming that yes, he had wondered such things. Arthur looked down at his hands, tightening his grip on the reins.

"See?" he muttered, "That's why I need to worry. That's why I need to make sure you _know_ that I'm worried about you. I care about you, idiot, and I don't want you to ever feel like you can't trust me."

"I do trust you, Arthur," Merlin assured. "I just don't want to develop a relationship with you that demands you answer every concern that I have. It's impossible for me to expect you to solve all my problems and it's foolish of you to believe that you need to. There are going to be things that happen where neither of us is going to know the answer – like now. Neither you nor I know how Freya is going to react to all of this. She could end up hating me forever or she could end up giving me her blessing. All I want is to rid myself of this guilt I've been collecting for the last two weeks."

Arthur sighed, running a hand through his blonde hair. "I want to help you, Merlin, you know I do. I understand that there will be times where I can't but... I guess what I'm trying to say is... if you need to talk about something, I'll be here for you. I don't want you to shut me out anymore, alright? Even if I can't give you a solution, the fact of knowing that you'll include me when you're struggling will help ease my mind. I don't want to feel like I'm failing you."

Merlin smiled. "Thank you, Arthur. That really means a lot - especially coming from a prat like you."

Arthur grinned but refused to rise to the bait. "I know what you're trying to do, Merlin, which is why I'm going to ask if you're attempting to change the subject because you want to ignore it or if you feel there's nothing further left to discuss about it."

Merlin laughed lightly through his nose. "I don't know if I like this new side of you – your observation skills have definitely sharpened since I was five."

"Merlin."

"Alright, alright, no I'm not ignoring the subject. I really think we've reached a point where there's no point wondering about the unknown and creating false realities in my head about what will be. Those will only heighten my expectations and fears and I already have enough stressful things in my life to deal with. Speaking of, now that we have sorcerers as knights, how are we going to train them? Some of them may be excellent in the art of magical combat but completely inept when it comes to bashing people with pointy sticks."

"Thank you for that eloquent description of sword fighting, Merlin," Arthur replied, rolling his eyes.

"I thought you'd appreciate it."

" _Anyway_ , I believe we'll first see where their skill lies and then determine whether they have the potential to continue learning more when it comes to physical combat. If it's high, we'll make sure to train them both physically and magically. If they excel more in your area of expertise then you'll train them on what exactly they need to do in order to become magical warriors. Also, I'd like to have them train with the knights. We need to become capable of recognizing and holding our own against magical attacks. I can't think of a better way to do that than implementing such practices with the training we're already doing."

"Does this mean that I'll get to spar against you?" Merlin asked while grinning mischievously.

Arthur shrugged, trying to hide how intimidating it was facing a man that was more powerful than anyone else on earth. "I don't see why not – as long as you provide me with tools where I can defend myself properly against your attacks."

"I'm sure I can come up with something, sire."

Arthur shook his head. "You just want to knock me down in front of the others, don't you?"

"What? Why on earth would I want to do that?" Merlin asked, feinting ignorance. "It's not like you haven't done that to me before."

Arthur snorted. "Don't get cocky now that you can use magic, Merlin. I can still take you out in a fair fight. I have more combat experience."

"Yes, but as I recall, when magic was involved in said combat experience you fell on your face every time, leaving me to come to your rescue."

"Shut up Merlin."

The warlock grinned and, after rolling his eyes, Arthur smiled.

The two reached the lake a few minutes later, both dismounting and leaving their horses tied to a nearby tree. The night was perfect, the evening dew collecting against the grass as a lovely moon bathed the area in a bluish glow. Crickets chirped happily in song, a frog joining in at occasional moments. A gentle breeze ruffled Arthur's hair, lightly disturbing the surface of the lake. Merlin removed his floor-length jacket and laid it across his saddle, Arthur unclipping his cape and doing the same.

"You're keeping the hat on?" Arthur commented as they began to move towards the water.

Merlin frowned, fingering the wide brim unconsciously. "It's kind of started to grow on me," he reluctantly admitted.

Arthur grinned. "Adaline wouldn't have something to do with that, would she?"

Merlin's darkening cheeks were answer enough but the warlock denied, "Not at all."

"Sure," Arthur muttered under his breath as they reached the lake's silt. At the edge of the water, the king stared out at the dark surface before glancing at the warlock. "Now what?"

Merlin shrugged. "I'll try a couple things. Remember, besides a few weeks ago the only other time I've successfully talked to her was when she appeared in the water the Fisher King gave me."

The warlock then lifted his hand and whispered a few unknown words, his eyes glowing bright in the darkness. _"_ _ **Síþwíf ic ácíegan þé."**_

The water remained as still as before. Arthur frowned as Merlin looked unsurprised but sad.

"Try again," Arthur encouraged. "Maybe you need to say it differently."

"Maybe," Merlin muttered. He closed his eyes and took another deep breath _ **. "Ascian mec ælfen sylfum sé**_ _ **díepu! Cuman!"**_

The two waited but, once again, the lake's surface didn't move. Merlin's shoulders sagged.

Trying to be helpful, Arthur carefully asked, "Since I don't exactly speak sorcerer, could you tell me what you've been saying?"

"Specifically?"

"Yes."

"Well, the first time I said 'Lady, I summon thee' and the second, 'Hear me, spirit of the lake! Come!'"

Arthur's frown deepened as a thought occurred to him. It was a long shot and he felt like a complete love struck girl for even thinking it but if it worked… Besides, Merlin wouldn't make fun of him for having such a thought, right? Only one way to find out…

"Merlin?" he began hesitantly, "You love Freya, right?"

"Of course I do!" the warlock stated, a little frustrated that neither of his attempts had produced the desired effect.

Arthur bit his lip. "Then, why don't you try to call her as a _lover_ would?" Merlin stared and Arthur immediately began to squirm. "You're right – it was a stupid idea – forget I even suggested it."

"No, you might have a point there, Arthur," Merlin mused. "Putting emotion behind spells sometimes increases their potency. I can give it a try. But… do you think that you could, um, give me some privacy?"

"Oh – right – of course," Arthur muttered, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck and walking away from the lake's edge.

 _Idiot_ , he silently berated himself. This was Merlin's affair not his. He knew the warlock approved of his presence but that didn't mean Arthur needed to be right beside him. Sighing, the king wandered over to a nearby rock and planted himself at its base, leaning against it and folding his arms.

Merlin glanced back at him before letting the breath out of his lungs. He then began to speak in the Old Tongue and though Arthur couldn't exactly make out the strange words, the manner in which they were spoken he did hear. Merlin's voice was soft and gentle, almost holding a caress, and Arthur found himself averting his gaze. He'd never heard Merlin speak in such a soft manner and he felt somewhat uncomfortable listening in. He'd used a similar tone when speaking to Guinevere on very rare occasions – and in _very_ private settings – when he was sure no one else was listening. He therefore understood how special this moment was and decided to respect Merlin by remaining silent on the matter in future.

When Merlin finished speaking, Arthur dared to look out over the lake, hoping that his suggestion would work. The surface remained still and Arthur's disappointment matched Merlin's as the warlock hung his head. The king was about to stand when the lake began to glow, the dark surface glistening like the facets of a diamond in the noonday sun. Arthur shielded his eyes until the light dissipated and when he looked again, he could see Merlin was no longer alone. Standing before the warlock in the same purple dress he'd seen her in previously was the Lady of the Lake – and she appeared just as gentle as she had a few weeks ago when she rescued Merlin from his curse.

"Merlin, my love," she greeted, kissing him on the cheek, "it is good to see you."

Merlin wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. "It's good to see you too, Freya."

The Lady stepped back. "I like your hat," she giggled. "I felt all of Magic celebrate when you were promoted today. The very Earth brightened with hope."

Merlin smiled. "I felt it too."

Arthur hadn't felt it but that was no surprise; he wasn't connected with strange magical stuff like Merlin was.

"I've tried to summon you before but you've never come," Merlin muttered.

"I wanted to but I am not always given permission to visit you. I was actually very surprised when I was permitted to do so after your third summons – which was _very_ romantic by the way."

She leaned up and kissed Merlin tenderly on the lips and Arthur once more felt like he was intruding on a private interlude. Should he go away? Probably. But that would require moving which might distract the two and he didn't want to ruin or interrupt the limited time they had together. Arthur folded his arms and settled back against the boulder. He'd just have to wait it out.

"Do you know why I'm here?" Merlin asked.

Freya smiled. "I think I have an idea. I'm allowed to check in on you and though my time to do so is limited, I manage to gather quite a bit as to what is going on."

"So then you know? About Adaline?"

"Yes," Freya smiled. "She's very beautiful."

Merlin stared. "You're not angry with me."

"Oh, Merlin, how could I be? Knowing that you are loved and taken care of is all that matters to me."

"I was afraid that you'd hate me," Merlin confessed, his voice choking up with emotion.

Freya reached up and caressed his cheek. "I have become one with the lake, Merlin. I cannot leave it. I can no longer give you the love that you need in this life. I will always love you but I do not want you to feel you cannot love another for my sake. Live your life and love it and those who will be part of it. You can love more than one person. I'm not asking you to forsake me or forget about the love we have. Cherish it but don't allow it to stop you from having happiness."

Merlin stifled a sob as he held Freya tightly to him. "I will always love you," he muttered.

"I know," Freya answered, her hold tightening around him. "As I will always love you."

The two shared another kiss, one that conveyed understanding, love, and compassion. Freya stepped away from him but kept her hands securely folded within his. They stared into each other's eyes for a few moments more before the Lady sighed.

"I will have to go soon," she confessed. "But before I do, tell me of your new love."

"Her name is Adaline," Merlin answered, a hesitant smile lighting his face. "Her mother was an elf and her father a man. She's kind, a little clumsy, and perfectly honest. She's had a hard life so far but it hasn't broken her spirit."

Freya smiled. "She sounds wonderful. A half-elf will live longer than mortal men."

"I know," Merlin replied. "I'm prepared for that."

The Lady of the Lake stared at him for a long time, her gaze holding something akin to sadness. "I'm sure you are," she muttered. "I feel that she will take care of you and therefore my worries are put to rest. I'm happy for you, Merlin."

And she truly was, her sincerity unmistakable as she smiled up at him.

"Thank you," Merlin answered before kissing her forehead. "She'll never replace you. There will always be a special place for you in my heart."

"I know that," Freya smiled, her eyes brightening with tears. "My heart is yours, Merlin, as it will forever be. Thank you for coming to see me. The action alone proves that your love for me has not dimmed."

"Nor will it ever," Merlin assured.

The lake's surface began to glow. Freya looked over her shoulder before looking back at him. "I will miss you, my love."

"I'll come visit," Merlin promised.

Freya smiled. "I know you will." The two shared one last kiss before the Lady stepped away, her gaze turning briefly to Arthur. "Thank you for taking care of him, my King."

Arthur jumped, surprised that she was addressing him. Recovering, he raised his hand and sheepishly waved. "Someone has to," he answered back.

Freya and Merlin shared a laugh before they sobered.

"I love you," Merlin muttered.

"I love you too," Freya replied before tenderly placing her lips against his cheek.

The Lady of the Lake then took several paces backward before sinking beneath the surface, her loving smile and tender gaze focused on her love until she was no longer visible. Arthur waited until Merlin started making his way back to the shore before standing and brushing the sand from his trousers. The last time the warlock had to say goodbye, he had been full of anguish. This time, however, he held a bittersweet smile.

Arthur approached him. "Are you alright?"

Merlin contemplated a moment, staring out at the lake. "I believe so," he truthfully answered. "Did you, um, overhear?"

Arthur nodded. "Sorry," he sheepishly muttered, "I didn't want to disturb you by moving so I stayed put."

Merlin's smile widened a little. "It's okay. I'm kind of glad you did."

Sensing that this was one of Merlin's vulnerable moments, Arthur stepped closer and wrapped his arms around the warlock in a firm embrace. The warlock gratefully accepted it, burying his face into Arthur's neck. The king stayed put until Merlin began to draw away, the two stepping out of the hug. Arthur coughed into his hand while Merlin rubbed the back of his head.

"Um, shall we?" Arthur asked, nodding towards the horses.

"Yeah," Merlin muttered.

The two made their way towards Ares and Rhith. Arthur mounted his steed but Merlin took an extra second to stare at the lake before copying him. It wasn't until they were back on the trail and a good mile away from the trees that Merlin spoke again.

"Thank you, Arthur," he muttered quietly, his voice disturbing the music of the night.

The king stared over at his warlock, a warm smile reflecting the brotherly affection he felt towards him. "Anytime, old friend."

Merlin shook his head. "You've done so much for me. I don't think I can ever repay you."

"Merlin, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that. If anyone is to be repaying someone it should be _me_ repaying _you_. But I didn't suggest coming out here as a means to repay you and ease my conscience. I made the suggestion because I care about you. Guinevere once told me that part of our strange relationship is that we feel what the other feels. When you're upset, so am I. When you're happy, so am I. When one of us is suffering, the other will do whatever they can to make that suffering go away. We _are_ two sides of the same coin; the more I think about it, the more I realize it's the truth. You're more than my best friend, Merlin, and you're more than my brother."

Arthur pulled on the reins, causing Ares to come to a halt.

"Arthur?" Merlin prompted, stopping Rhith beside him.

Arthur studied his warlock a moment more before digging into his pocket and pulling out a leather pouch. "I carry this with me wherever I go," he muttered, revealing from the small bag a beautiful round piece of silver with a bird engraved on the surface over an X. "It belonged to my mother. It bears her sigil," he explained. "Here."

He passed the silver piece to Merlin, the Court Sorcerer handling it with care as Arthur knew he would.

"Arthur," Merlin began, "I can't."

"Just – take it," Arthur gently commanded.

Merlin swallowed, staring down at the sigil. "Arthur, this means…" Merlin shook his head, his shock preventing him from speaking further.

The king smiled. "It means that if anything were currently to happen to me, you would succeed me on the throne. I've given this a lot of thought, Merlin. I know that you will take care of Camelot as I do."

"But – what about your posterity?" Merlin argued. "It should be _their_ right to take over the throne!"

"It still is," Arthur consoled. "Like I said, I've been giving this a lot of thought. Mind you, I envisioned myself married to Guinevere when making this plan so, should something happen to me, she would be the one to succeed me. But if something were to happen to her and we didn't have any children – heaven forbid – then you would become Camelot's new leader. I wouldn't have it any other way."

Merlin's jaw dropped. "You – this – this is crazy, Arthur! By giving me this, you're adopting me into your royal household! I can't accept this! I'm a servant!"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Merlin, have you forgotten that you're considered the King of the Druids?"

The warlock swallowed. "That's different. This–"

"How is it different? Merlin, for a long time I have thought of you as something akin to a brother. This just makes it official."

"As humbled as I am that you think so fondly of me, I'm terrified as to how everyone else is going to feel about this," Merlin muttered, staring down at the sigil.

"They no longer have a say," Arthur grinned. "You are now, officially, more powerful than any man in Camelot – besides me, of course."

"My word will be above Gwen's too, won't it?" Merlin guessed.

"Until I die, yes."

The warlock swallowed. "This is huge, Arthur. Are you sure you want to give this to me?"

Arthur's smile softened. "I'm sure, Merlin. And, since it bothers you so much, we can keep it secret until it needs to be brought to light. How does that sound? Only those belonging to the Round Table will know – that way, if something should happen to me and you present the sigil, others will be able to vouch that I truly gave it to you."

Merlin sighed before a defeated smile climbed his cheeks. "First I get promoted to Court Sorcerer and First Adviser, then Freya gives me her blessing to pursue someone else, and now you present me with _this_. I never thought all of this would happen when I woke up this morning. I went from being a simple manservant to the second most powerful man in Camelot. You don't have any other shocking promotions up your sleeve, do you? Because I don't know if I can take much more."

Arthur laughed. "Sorry, Merlin, I'm afraid those are the only surprises I have for you."

The warlock looked intently at the king before bowing his head. "Thank you for trusting me with this, Arthur. I will cherish it forever."

"I know you will," Arthur smiled, his heart warm. "Come on, let's go home."

The two traveled back to Camelot in companionable silence, enjoying the evening ride. After reaching the citadel and securing their steeds, Arthur bid good night to his brother and set off to his chambers knowing he'd done the right thing.

Smiling to himself, he got ready for bed and climbed under the covers, his happiness growing. Tomorrow he would begin another chapter in his life, one where he'd finally be united with the woman he loved. Closing his eyes, the king drifted off to sleep, his thoughts consumed with visions of what the coming day would bring.

* * *

 **Next up is the wedding! Hopefully I can get it to you guys in the next couple weeks! Please leave a review. They are always appreciated! :)**

Spoken spells:

 _ **Síþwíf ic ácíegan þé**_ : Lady I summon thee

 _ **Ascian mec ælfen sylfum sé**_ _ **díepu! Cuman!**_ : Hear me spirit of the lake! Come!


	20. Chapter 20

**Oh my gosh, you guys, your reviews for the last chapter have made me smile so much! Thank you! A few of you commented on the deleted scene I put in where Arthur gives Merlin his mother's sigil. I'm so glad you picked up on that because I loved that scene and it made me so sad that they took it out! There was also a mention that the plot to kill Arthur during the tournament hasn't come to pass yet. Well... *clears throat* Enjoy the chapter! *runs away***

 **disclaimer: I don't own Merlin**

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20: Sun and Moon

Arthur strode into the room with the largest smile anyone had ever seen on his face, his wife's hand resting in his own as the two royals headed for their seats. The knights inclined their heads respectfully as the two passed, Arthur helping Guinevere into her chair before taking his own next to Merlin, the warlock beaming at his two best friends. Arthur brought Guinevere's hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles while the others moved to sit down. His queen smiled lovingly at him, her brown eyes bright with happiness.

It was the afternoon of their wedding day and what a day it had been so far! Arthur was still giddy over the fact that Guinevere was now his wife. After so many years, his longing and secret desires had become a reality. Naturally he was highly looking forward to the time after the celebratory feast when the two would finally be alone to do as they wished but, for now, he would have to control his desires. So instead he looked around at his most trusted friends, all sitting around a Round Table – Merlin's wedding gift to the happy couple.

The table was huge, nearly spanning the width of the hall, the dark wooden surface sporting the Pendragon Crest in its center, the golden dragon standing out like a beacon. It was one of the most beautiful pieces of furniture Arthur had ever seen and the meaning behind it made it all the more special. Merlin had presented it to him shortly before Guinevere's coronation ceremony and the king had been overcome and excited to implement it during future meetings.

With one last appreciative look at his warlock, Arthur cleared his throat and all eyes turned to him. Amidst the gathered were the original members of the Round Table: Leon, Gwaine, Elyan, Percival and Gaius. Isolde and Tristan, having been adopted into the group shortly after the retaking of the citadel, were also present. And, under careful consideration, Arthur had decided to invite Geoffrey of Monmouth, Sirs Mordred, Balthazar, Bedivere, and Kay, Guinevere's newly appointed maidservant, Adaline, and his manservant, Daegal, to join his most trusted council.

"My friends," he said, smiling warmly at them all, "thank you for being here and for accepting to be part of this special council. I know that today is my wedding day and celebrations will be sure to take place but, at present, I felt it necessary to meet.

"I want it understood that this council – the Round Table Council – is separate from the King's Council that is already formed and in operation. The foundation of this group is based on equality in all things and has been formed through my complete trust in each of you. We are made up of servants, knights, warlocks, druids, physicians, scholars, kings, and queens but here we are equals. I expect everyone to give their honest opinion and contribute to discussions with the intent of your heart. There is no need to fear expressing yourself.

"My goal with this Council is to have a select group I can turn to in troubled times -be they collectively or individually- and receive sage advice that will benefit me in making decisions concerning the kingdom. That being said, the things we will discuss will be expected to remain in mystery to all outside of this room. There may be special tasks that I ask this Council to take part in and I have selected each of you knowing that I can rely on you explicitly to follow my orders to the letter.

"Now, the reason I gathered all of you together today is because there is a matter that must be disclosed without delay." – He paused to look at Guinevere and the queen sent him an encouraging nod. Arthur smiled at her before turning back to the others. – "After careful deliberation, I have entrusted Merlin with my mother's sigil."

" _What?"_ Leon, Gaius, and Geoffrey gasped at the same time.

"You can't be serious!" Kay cried in surprise.

Arthur held up a hand. "Let me explain my reasoning. I'm sure most of you know of the prophecy Merlin and I share? There are some who have described Emrys and the Once and Future King as two sides of the same coin and I feel this is the truth. I view Merlin as a part of me and I therefore felt it appropriate to adopt him into the royal family. I trust him more than any man and though he was rather reluctant to take the sigil he has accepted it."

"But what is the purpose for this, Arthur?" Geoffrey asked. "Now that you are wed, there is no reason for Merlin to have such a title."

"Upon my death Guinevere will inherit the rights to the throne," Arthur explained, "as will our children when that time comes. Giving Merlin my mother's sigil is a safety precaution should Guinevere and I be unable to produce an heir – may that never be the case. Should both of us pass, Merlin will be the next ruler of Camelot. For now, however, he is second in command, his status higher than that of even the queen."

"Arthur explained this to me before this meeting and I support it," Guinevere stated, smiling warmly at her husband and then the warlock by his side. "Camelot will always be safe under Arthur and Merlin's protection."

"And what is your opinion of this, Merlin?" Gwaine asked, his roughish grin indicating that he was perfectly happy with the arrangement.

The warlock let out a heavy sigh. "I've always loved living in the shadows where none need notice me but Arthur seems determined to expose me to the world. I never wanted this title but because my king wishes it of me, I accept the responsibility."

Arthur looked around at the others, reading their expressions and noticing all of them seemed at ease with his choice. To be sure, however, he felt the need to elicit further response.

"Are there any here who object to my decision?" he asked.

All were quiet until Balthazar cleared his throat. "I may be new to the city but it didn't take long for me to see the bond you and Emrys share. I support your decision, sire, knowing you couldn't have made a better choice."

"I agree with Balthazar," Mordred stated. "Merlin will never betray you, Arthur, of that I have no doubt."

"I think it's a brilliant idea," Tristan added.

"A true leader does not seek recognition but the protection of those he is given stewardship," said Adaline. "Merlin's heart is pure. He will not lead Camelot astray nor will he ever undermine the king's authority."

The others muttered in agreement and Arthur glanced at Merlin, satisfied to see the idiot blushing under the shadow of his pointed hat. The king grinned.

"See Merlin," he said with a playful nudge, "everyone here has accepted your new status. You were worrying over nothing last night."

Merlin sighed. "The few in this room are our friends, Arthur. There are plenty outside these walls that are bound to hold hostility."

"Merlin is right, sire," Geoffrey reluctantly admitted. "I personally feel he is an excellent choice but many of the nobility will be outraged that you have chosen him over them."

"I will not allow the opinions of others to sway me from what I know to be right," Arthur kindly countered. "Besides Guinevere, I can think of no one better to succeed me than Merlin."

"Then we will speak no more of Merlin's worthiness," said Gaius, "Since all of us here agree with you."

Arthur smiled, nodding appreciatively to the physician. "Excellent."

"Arthur, if I may?"

"Yes, Leon?"

"Considering the possibility that something may occur where you are unable to lead us, I believe there should be a code known throughout the ranks of the knights and guards that will reassure Merlin is the one to command them."

"That is a very good idea," Kay supported.

"I agree," Arthur said with a nod. "Any ideas of what the code should be?"

Percival spoke up first. "It should definitely be short."

"Yes," Isolde agreed. "Something the knights will hear clearly."

"And it needs to be memorable," commented Elyan.

"Because complicated words could easily be forgotten," Mordred pointed out.

"I have an idea," said Guinevere. Everyone turned to her and the newly appointed queen smiled. "To the people, Arthur is similar to the sun which nourishes the land and provides light to the Earth. Merlin is similar to the moon which always follows after the sun. If a situation happens where Merlin has to take charge, he can say something along the lines of 'The Moon Rises.'"

Arthur stared at his wife. "Brilliant," he praised.

"It's short, simple, and memorable," Gaius commented in approval.

"I like it," Merlin grinned.

The others nodded in agreement. Arthur lifted Guinevere's hand and kissed it tenderly. "It's perfect," he stated.

Guinevere smiled happily, her eyes falling to the surface of the table.

"It's decided," Arthur concluded. "Leon, Bedivere, I will delegate the matter to the two of you to instruct the knights to follow the man who states that phrase if I am unable to lead. Do not let any know that Merlin is the one who will give the code. It is his wish that this change in his status remain ignorant to most of the kingdom until dire circumstances occur."

"We'll make sure to spread the word right after this meeting, Arthur," Bedivere assured.

"Good," Arthur smiled, nodding to his First and Second Knight before turning to the others. "That was the only matter we needed to discuss at present. Thank you again for accepting my invitation and proving yourselves worthy to be part of this Council. I will focus on creating a schedule where we will meet once a week. Until then, wait upon my word and remember: the things we discuss here are to remain here when we leave."

Everyone nodded before standing, recognizing that the meeting had drawn to a close. As the knights and Geoffrey left the room to return to their respective duties, Guinevere turned to Arthur and wrapped her arms around him.

"I'm so proud of you," she whispered.

Arthur happily kissed her cheek. "As I am of you; that was a brilliant idea for the code."

"Yes, comparing Arthur to the sun and me to the moon," Merlin interjected, ever needing to be heard.

Arthur grinned. "Why, Merlin, you sound as if you're jealous. Don't worry; just because I shine brighter than you doesn't mean that your pitiful light will not be seen."

The warlock snorted. "The moon can be incredibly bright, Arthur. Besides, it has the harder job of making sure the shadows don't cover the earth – unlike the sun which gives very little effort whatsoever to do such a thing. It's obvious which one is the harder worker."

"You two," Guinevere chided, laughing, "both the sun and the moon have equal roles of importance. It isn't a contest."

"Whoever said it was? We were just stating facts," Merlin grinned while Arthur rolled his eyes.

"The sun is still better," the king muttered so only the warlock could hear.

"I think you're delusional, Arthur," Merlin grinned. "But, then again, I've always thought that to be the case."

Arthur grabbed the brim of Merlin's hat and yanked on it, covering the warlock's eyes and laughing joyfully.

[][][]

The sounds of music and laughter echoed throughout the crowded courtyard, blending with the occasional exclamation of excitement as various performances of magic burst into existence with the soft glow of golden eyes. Small yellow spheres floated freely above the heads of the people, their inner magical flame providing additional light to the large torches lining the perimeter. Commoners mingled with nobles, sorcerers spoke with knights, and the king and queen walked among them on equal ground.

A section near the east wall contained a variety of foods as well as a bar where Arthur could make out Gwaine, regaling a whole slew of swooning women as he told some riotous tale. Percival and Elliani could be counted among those who were dancing, the large knight spinning the small sorceress around in a twirl that was surprisingly rather graceful. Arthur himself had just finished his fifth dance with Guinevere, the two resting against the wall as they watched their people with contented smiles.

"Where has Merlin run off to?" Guinevere asked as she looked back and forth for the warlock.

"Last I saw he was on the steps entertaining the children by making shapes out of water," Arthur muttered.

But the steps were empty. A thought suddenly occurred to him and Arthur looked around for a glimpse of red hair but only Sir Pelleas' short locks caught his eye, the knight dancing with one of the kitchen maids. The king raised an amused brow and he couldn't help drawing to the conclusion that the likelihood of Adaline and Merlin disappearing at the same time was not coincidental.

"Adaline seems to be missing too," he commented.

Guinevere looked at him, a smile slowly starting to climb her face. "Arthur, are you trying to tell me something?"

"It could be nothing," Arthur said with a shrug but he was failing at hiding the grin lifting the corners of his mouth.

"I _knew_ it!" the queen happily exclaimed. "I've suspected for some time but I wasn't sure if I should broach the subject with him. Merlin has always been rather reserved on such things."

Arthur chuckled. "Hence why we don't see him in this crowd; he would want to keep any romantic interludes private – unlike Gwaine over there."

Guinevere giggled, looking to the bar where Gwaine was indeed making out with a random blonde in plain view. "Well, he's always had an untamed spirit."

Arthur shook his head in exasperation. "You would think he'd show more dignity now that he's a knight."

"You can't stop someone from being who they are, Arthur," Guinevere smiled. "You can only influence them and hope they change for the better."

Arthur studied her a moment before pulling her gently to his chest and kissing her, grateful the two of them were half-encased in shadow away from prying eyes. Guinevere looped her arms around his neck, her fingers sliding effortlessly into his hair. Arthur's hands left her waist, one settling in the small of her back while the other came up to her neck, his thumb gliding across her jaw line. A light moan escaped his queen and she pushed herself closer to him, the king's back falling against the wall behind him.

"Guinevere," he groaned, desiring to whisk her away from this place.

"Let's go somewhere," she begged, her beautiful eyes filled with suppressed longing.

Arthur stared into her eyes before kissing her tenderly on the lips. "Alright."

He eagerly grabbed her hand and started leading the way towards the steps that would take them into the citadel. The celebration had been going on for several hours and he'd been around long enough to feel justified disappearing for the evening. Besides, it was his wedding night; he had every right to enjoy the rest of it with his queen.

The royals had almost reached their goal when they were intercepted by the last person Arthur had expected to run into. The king jerked to a stop as Merlin appeared, barring his way. The warlock looked apologetic as he eyed the tightly clasped hands of the sovereigns.

"Merlin, what's wrong?" Arthur asked, concerned though also annoyed. Didn't the idiot have enough tact to leave him alone tonight of all nights?

"I'm sorry, Arthur, but I need to talk to both of you," he muttered, glancing anxiously back and forth.

"Is something the matter?" asked Guinevere.

Merlin nervously bit his lip. "Not here; too many ears. Come on."

Arthur thought that Merlin would lead them up the steps into the citadel but instead the warlock headed for a darkened hallway partially hidden behind a row of columns. It was far enough away from the interactions of the crowd and it was shaded enough not to draw attention to a private conversation. It was a strange choice but Arthur saw the wisdom in it. None were going to venture over here any time soon.

"Alright, what's the matter?" Arthur demanded the second they were shroud in shadow.

Merlin turned to face them, his face partially hidden in darkness. Something akin to warning suddenly flared in Arthur's chest though he couldn't understand why. This was Merlin. Why should he feel uneasy? The same discomfort seemed to come over Guinevere for the queen unconsciously took a step closer to Arthur, her fingers tightening around his hand for reassurance.

"Merlin?" she hesitantly prompted.

The warlock suddenly smirked but it wasn't his usual playful grin. The expression on his face was foreign to the king and Arthur, acting on instinct, went for his sword. The second his hand wrapped around the hilt, Merlin's eyes flashed gold and Arthur immediately knew that this wasn't Merlin; the golden irises were not the same brilliant shade as his warlock's nor was the magic emanating from him familiar. It was sinister, evil, and the king's soul instantly recoiled away from it.

" _ **Ætfón**_ _ **æt sé**_ _**stángaderung!"**_

An invisible force latched onto Arthur's body, wrenching his grip away from Guinevere as he flew backward into the wall. The air knocked out of his lungs from the impact and the king let out a choked gasp, pain shooting to his brain as his head smacked into the stone. Arthur gritted his teeth as he hissed in discomfort, waiting for the moment his body would slide to the ground. It was therefore a surprise when he remained fixed to the wall, almost as if he'd become part of it. He struggled to move his limbs but it was futile. Arthur opened his eyes, ignoring the throbbing of his head as he did so.

Merlin – well, the man impersonating him because this most certainly was _not_ Merlin – moved away from the shadows, malicious satisfaction shining from his eyes as he beheld his two captives.

"Finally," he whispered in Merlin's voice, his words laced with hate, "I've had to bid my time _pretending_ to support and serve you but now I can accomplish what I have been yearning to do for _years."_

Arthur's stomach roiled from the unfamiliar tone coming from a voice he'd long since associated with friendship and brotherhood. Anger licked his insides and a liquid fire erupted within his heart. _How dare this impostor take the form of the other half of his coin!_

"Who are you?" he demanded. "Only a coward would hide behind the mask of a different man!"

The charlatan's eyes once more flashed gold as he snarled, " _ **Swígen**_!"

Arthur's throat began to burn and the king cried out in dismay only to find no sound escaped his lips. His eyes widened and he tried to talk again but his voice was gone.

Not-Merlin laughed cruelly at his predicament. "What's the matter, _sire?_ Unfamiliar with not having to hear your own voice?"

"What have you done to him?" Guinevere snapped.

"The same I am about to do to you," the pretender whispered.

His eyes turned molten gold and Arthur shouted out a silent exclamation of dismay as the same silencing spell overcame his beloved. While he couldn't move his limbs, the king found that he could turn his head. His eyes assessed his queen, hoping he would find no further wrong had been done to her besides being pinned unwillingly against the wall. Guinevere's eyes reflected both fear and anger as she wordlessly started shouting at the sorcerer now silently gloating in satisfaction over their predicament. Arthur felt a surge of pride but more so concern for he feared her muted words would only serve to further annoy their captor and bring him to anger. The last thing he wanted was to see Guinevere hurt so Arthur did the only thing he could think of to draw the man's attention away from her. Normally he would never stoop to such a low act but desperation sometimes forced honor aside.

Working up enough saliva, the king took aim and spat the liquid right into the charlatan's face. Not-Merlin cried out in anger, wiping the spittle away before retaliating by punching Arthur in the jaw. The king's head whipped to the side, his lip splitting open, his tongue tasting blood. Arthur smiled despite the pain as he looked around at the man pretending to be his best friend. The anger and loathing in the sorcerer's eyes was even further confirmation to the king that this man was not who he pretended to be. Merlin would never strike him nor would he ever use his magic to hurt him or Guinevere.

"You should be grateful that I have my orders or I'd snap your neck right here and now, Arthur Pendragon," Not-Merlin angrily growled.

Arthur tried to convey his silent question in his returning glare. Whose orders?

" _ **Ádón mín gríma."**_

The impostor's form began to ripple like a stone disturbing the surface of a peaceful lake. His face screwed up in pain and he staggered backward into the shadows, panting heavily as the magic twisted his features from the man Arthur loved to the impersonator's true self. The king's jaw dropped as the magic completed its work, revealing one of his newly appointed knights.

Maxim Horvath stepped out of the shadows, his dark eyes glinting with hatred, his scowl filled with malicious intent. "You appear surprised," he sneered, "well, I suppose one would. I played my part well, didn't I? Not even your _precious pet warlock_ could see through my mask."

Arthur's features twisted into a glare, his teeth grinding together as he stared at this man in contempt.

Horvath's smirk widened. "Feeling betrayed, your majesty? It's your own fault! Morgana always said you were too trusting. Although it's proved to be useful in my case; pretending to gain your trust and swear allegiance to you all for the sake of the one I serve. You may have fooled everyone else but I know what you're truly trying to do. Magic is the superior force and without it your kingdom will one day fall. You plan to utilize it, to force sorcerers into a false sense of loyalty in order to use their gifts for your selfish purposes. I, however, have seen the light. The Lady Morgana is the rightful heir to the throne of Camelot. As her right hand, it is my duty to pave the way for her to ascend the throne and place Magic where it is meant to be."

The traitor then pulled a dagger from his belt, taking care to remove the covering without touching the blade's surface. The sinister tool was unlike anything Arthur had ever seen, the dagger itself made out of what appeared to be bone, the tip white but the base a dark gray in color. A strange substance seemed to linger across the blade, like liquid that was in constant motion. Horvath smiled evilly as he presented the dagger to the two frozen royals.

"Do you recognize this, King Arthur?" he asked. "No? Let me enlighten you. Many years ago you encountered one of the fiercest creatures any man has ever come across: the Questing Beast."

Arthur's heart constricted as he remembered with unwanted clarity the moment long ago when the creature's fangs had sunk into his body. At the time he was told that the only reason he'd survived was due to Gaius's remarkable healing skills but after Merlin's reveal and explanation of everything he'd done, the king knew the only reason he was still alive was because of an exchange of life; ultimately Nimueh's for his own.

"The Lady Morgana managed to gain this fang from the same beast that almost succeeded in killing you," Horvath went on. "Using magic, she created a spell that secured the Questing Beast's venom upon the fang's surface. It will only extricate itself from the blade the moment it touches human skin. Quite a remarkable use of magic, wouldn't you say? As you very well know, one bite from the Questing Beast and the victim has no chance of survival – without invoking the power of life and death, of course, sacrificing another in order to remain alive."

Arthur stiffened in dread and his whole soul cried in horror as Horvath lashed out, the blade glinting in the darkness. Time seemed to stop and the king's mouth open in a silent scream of agony, tears pouring from his eyes. The sorcerer stepped back, yanking the dagger from Guinevere's stomach, the queen's body releasing from the wall to fall to the ground, her blood flowing freely from the wound into the groves between the cobblestones. Pain-filled brown eyes found terrified blue as Guinevere convulsed violently three times before her eyes rolled upwards and her lids closed, her body growing still as the blood grew around her wounded form. Arthur felt his heart stutter to a halt.

Horvath tossed the dagger aside before stepping over Guinevere's fallen body unconcernedly, a wicked grin distorting his features as he pulled two vials from his pocket. Arthur didn't care that tears were freely falling down his cheeks nor did he care that he could not be heard. He started shouting without a voice, silently screaming at the man before him. His entire body ached as he tried in vain to expel himself from the wall, his form shaking as he threw his head forward, desperate to reach the woman he loved as well as murder the sorcerer who had harmed her. Through his anger, he was barely able to make out what Horvath was saying, so consumed was he in trying to free himself.

"Valerian and henbane, Arthur Pendragon," Horvath said, shaking the vials. "The valerian will knock you unconscious and once I pour the henbane in your ear, it won't be long before death will claim you. You will not be able to save your precious wife because you will already be dead."

The sorcerer then seized the king's mouth and forced the bottle of valerian past his lips. Arthur choked, desperately trying to spit the liquid out but Horvath shoved his chin upward and the king reflexively swallowed. The ghost of Horvath's triumphant laugh was the last thing the king heard before darkness swirled across his vision, his chin falling onto his chest. Just before unconsciousness claimed him, Arthur's mind whispered one word: _Merlin_.

What happened next was something the king had never experienced before. As he opened his eyes, he felt weightless, like he could be flicked aside with the merest whisper of wind. Experimenting, he determined that he could use his limbs so he immediately pushed himself from the ground, his confused thoughts clearing as the events of what just occurred came rushing back to him.

 _Guinevere!_

His eyes sought her instantly and his heart constricted as he found her still upon the ground except the amount of blood beneath her crumpled form had doubled. Arthur made to go to her but Horvath was still there. The king's vision ran red and he reached for his sword – only to find that it wasn't on his person.

"What?" he muttered aloud, looking down at his hip only to cry out a second later in shock; _he could see through his body!_

Arthur's eyes widened and he lifted his hand in dismay. The outline was there but he could make out the stone wall on the other side of it. The king naturally began to panic. Looking around, he discovered his body lying in the dirt next to Guinevere's, Horvath stepping back after putting something into the his right ear. It was the strangest thing seeing himself lying there when he was also standing up. What on earth was going on?

The sound of hurried footsteps caused Horvath to hastily stand.

"Maxim!" Arthur saw Balthazar appear in the open corridor, his eyes widening in disbelief as he took in the scene. "What have you done?" he whispered.

"I did what you were too cowardly to do!" Horvath stated, turning to face his former ally. "You were too blinded to see that Morgana is right. Arthur would have used and abused our powers for his own selfish gains."

Balthazar's eyes flashed gold and a blue ball of energy erupted in his hands. "You murdered them!" he cried, throwing the ball towards Horvath.

The traitor shouted a spell that deflected the attack before blasting Balthazar off his feet with a wave of magic. Arthur was surprised that though he stood in the vicinity, Horvath's spells had no effect on him. As Balthazar got back to his feet, Horvath disappeared in a torrent of wind. Figuring the knight was fine, Arthur fell on his knees in front of his wife. His hands reached out to turn her over but they went right through her body. Arthur cried out, reeling backward in shock.

"Balthazar!" he shouted. "Horvath's done something to me – Help Guinevere!"

But the sorcerer didn't appear to hear him. Instead he turned as several people came barreling around the corner, Merlin in the lead. Arthur rejoiced! Merlin would save Guinevere for sure! Wait, was this really Merlin though?

"Arthur!" Merlin shouted in dismay, running right past the king to fall at the side of his body.

Yep, that was his idiot.

"Forget about me, you bumpkin!" Arthur shouted angrily. "Save Guinevere!"

Either the warlock didn't hear him or he was choosing to ignore him.

" _MERLIN!"_ Arthur bellowed right in his ear but it had no effect.

Great! Just great! He was stuck outside of his body with no way to communicate with _anyone_. How could things get any worse? Oh yes; he was the only one who knew exactly _what_ Horvath had used to poison him and his wife!

"Merlin, listen to me," he said desperately as the warlock's hands frantically searched his body for a pulse, "Horvath poisoned me with something called velsarian – no – valerian, yes – and henbane. He stabbed Guinevere with a dagger made from the Questing Beast's fang. It was riddled with its poison. Please, forget about me and take care of Guinevere. She'll die if you don't! Do you hear me, Merlin?! Take care of _her!_ That's an order!"

He tried to grab Merlin's shoulder but his hand went right through the warlock's body. Arthur let out a stream of curses, falling back and beginning to pace while running his hands through his hair. He knew the idiot would naturally desire to make sure he was alright but Guinevere was the one in mortal peril. The Questing Beast's bite was lethal! She needed magical help, _now!_ _Couldn't the idiot_ see _that?_

Of course not; he was too concerned about the king! Arthur resigned himself to watch since bellowing at everyone in the vicinity clearly wasn't working. _Please,_ please _, someone see to Guinevere_ , he silently begged.

While Merlin was trying to figure out exactly what had happened to Arthur, Adaline pushed her way through the stunned knights and ran over to the queen. The king wanted to shout in praise; at least _someone_ was giving his wife attention! He was going to throw Merlin in the stocks after giving him a strict lesson on paying attention to all of his surroundings. How could the idiot not notice?!

"Merlin!" Adaline cried in dismay.

The warlock finally turned his gaze away from Arthur and assessed the queen in horror. "Gwen!" he gasped, dropping Arthur's head and leaping over his body to get to his friend.

" _Finally!"_ Arthur growled, hovering over Merlin's shoulder. "Heal her, you idiot! She's dying!"

"Someone fetch Gaius!" Merlin ordered, the panic in his voice doing nothing to calm Arthur's anxiety.

The king watched as Bedivere broke away from the small group, running down the hall and out of sight. In the meantime Merlin yanked off his jacket and vest to get to his tunic, ripping it from his body without caring that he was stripping down in front of Adaline and the knights. His many scars shone bright against his pale skin as he applied pressure to Guinevere's seeping wound.

"Leon, elevate Arthur's head. I can't be sure but I think he's been poisoned. We need to make it so he's able to breathe."

The First Knight wasted no time removing his cape and wrapping it up with haste, gently lifting the king's head to place it underneath.

"Merlin!"

Gaius had arrived. The physician stopped mid-stride, however, his eyes widening in shock at the sight of the two injured royals on the floor. But as soon as the shock manifest, it melted away, replaced immediately by a steely determination that only a physician could produce in times of crisis. Glancing at Arthur's body and deciding it was the less dire of the two, Gaius knelt down beside Merlin to examine Guinevere.

"She's been stabbed," Merlin muttered. "I've been trying to heal the wound but it won't close."

Arthur's eyebrows rose in surprise. He hadn't heard Merlin using any spells. Then again, his panic had severely distracted him from giving the situation any proper amount of observation.

"Let me take a look," Gaius commanded, gently moving Merlin's ruined tunic away from the injury. The physician's careful eye examined the area and a deep frown caused his brow to crease. "Merlin, do you see the discoloration around the wound?"

Merlin leaned in closer to observe where Gaius was pointing before he gasped. _"No."_

"What?" Elyan demanded, the knight having fallen down to cradle Guinevere's head without anyone's notice.

"This injury is similar to one I saw many years ago," Gaius gravely stated. "It is the same as the bite Arthur received from the Questing Beast."

"The Questing Beast?!" Leon cried in dismay. "But we would have known if such a creature was within the city walls. The only way it could have gotten in is through the courtyard and that area is currently filled with people."

"The beast itself was not present." Everyone turned to face Adaline, the half-elf precariously holding the dagger in her hand with a disgusted look on her face. "Someone stabbed the queen," she stated.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you!" Arthur shouted, unheard.

Merlin looked to Gaius in fear. His king had been poisoned and his best friend had been stabbed. Both were in mortal danger. Arthur knew that in the end Merlin would choose him but his heart cried over what would become of his wife. And from the look on his face, Arthur knew that Merlin was considering how torn the king would be if he lost her.

Adaline stepped forward. "Merlin, the magic of the druids should help delay the poison coursing through the queen's veins. We know what has affected her but we don't know what happened to the king. He needs you right now more than Gwen does. You and Gaius should tend to him. The druids and I will make sure Gwen is taken care of."

Arthur had to hand it to Adaline; she had a keen head on her shoulders. Though he was still worried, he had faith that the maidservant would keep her word. Not to mention the druids were _exceptional_ healers. He could rely on them.

Merlin seemed to feel the same way because he gave Adaline a stiff nod before heading over to Arthur. He was just about to kneel beside the king's body when Lords Kriss, Victor, and Fairhurst -as well as several other knights- appeared on the scene. All of them stared at the fallen royals with Merlin standing over them.

"What is going on here?" Lord Kriss demanded.

"The king has been poisoned and the queen stabbed," Sir Brodric answered, having been one of the few knights to arrive with Merlin on the scene.

Lord Kriss, being completely idiotic, jumped to the worst possible conclusion. "This is _your_ doing!" he accused, pointing straight at Merlin. "You thought you'd wait until the king brought in sorcerers and made you his adviser so you could take over the throne! All magic-users are alike; you want to rule us yourself! Well, boy, I'm not going to let you!"

"You think _I_ did this?" Merlin shouted angrily, gesturing to the injured king and queen.

"You were the last to be seen with them," Lord Victor stated. "I saw you myself."

"That's impossible!" Adaline snapped.

"Oh? And on what grounds, exactly, can you claim such a thing?" Lord Fairhurst challenged.

Arthur watched as both Merlin and Adaline's faces turned a brilliant shade of red. In any other situation he would have found the predicament hilarious but now wasn't the time for humor. His lords had severely stepped out of line.

"I can vouch for Merlin," Balthazar stated, stepping forward, saving both Merlin and Adaline from having to explain their embarrassment. "It was Maxim Horvath. I tried to stop him but he got away. Merlin arrived shortly after he left."

"But _I_ saw _Merlin_ ," Lord Victor argued.

"It was a concealment spell, you _moron!"_ Arthur shouted in frustration, wishing they could hear him.

"Enough of this!" Merlin roared, his eyes flashing dangerously in the dim light. "Arthur and Gwen need _immediate_ medical attention! We can worry about who actually tried to kill them _later."_

"I agree," Lord Kriss stated, stepping forward with a dark expression. "But you are the only suspect we currently have. Knights, as a member of the King's Council, I demand you arrest Merlin at once."

A few of the knights started forward to carry out the order. Mordred was hesitant to do so, however, knowing exactly who they were going up against; in the end, he opted to stay put. Gwaine had also refused to move, ignoring the glare Lord Kriss sent his way.

Normally when the king was incapacitated the King's Council had such authority to command the knights but Merlin had more power than they did. He just needed to implement it.

"Say the words, Merlin!" Arthur ordered. "Give the command! I know you don't want people to know your new status but this is a matter of necessity! Come on, you idiot, _do it!"_

Arthur watched as some inner struggle seemed to be taking place within the warlock's mind; it wasn't hard for the king to see his options either. Merlin could easily use magic to force the others out of the way but it wouldn't produce the necessary results needed to help the dying sovereigns; the lords would only use his display of magic to condemn him. No, he'd have to take charge in order to ensure Arthur and Guinevere's safety. The king nodded to him; even if Merlin couldn't see or hear him, Arthur wanted to show his support. Merlin could do this. He _had_ to.

With a resigned sigh, the warlock drew himself to his full height. "The Moon Rises," he stated, his tone filling with authority as the mantle of royalty passed onto his shoulders.

The knights halted, surprise etched into their faces – minus those who were part of the Round Table Council; each of them seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, Arthur among them.

" _What_ _are_ _you_ _doing?"_ Lord Kriss demanded in outrage. "Arrest him!"

"Brodric, Pelleas, Mordred, please escort these three back to their chambers and keep them under guard until I say otherwise," Merlin commanded. "Adaline, get as many druids as you can and go to Gaius's chambers. Find my mother as well; she's had some experience in helping Gaius in the past. Elyan, I trust you can take Gwen there? Leon and Gwaine, help me get Arthur to his room. We'll go through the back so the people remain unaware of what's happened. Percival, I'll leave you to make sure everything remains in order while I take care of Arthur. The rest of you return to the party and keep this to yourselves. If word gets out that the royals are injured, I will personally take care of you myself."

"This is an outrage!" Lord Fairhurst cried as Mordred seized him by the arm. "You have _no_ right!"

"Actually, I do," Merlin stated, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the sigil Arthur had given him last night.

The king smirked as he looked at the lords' stupefied faces. "Take _that_ you insolent fools!" he heartily laughed.

"You _thief_!" Lord Victor spat, recognizing the seal. "That belongs to the king!"

"Arthur bestowed his mother's sigil to Merlin last night," Leon stated, acting as witness. "The king himself has declared him as his own kin and, seeing that the king is temporarily incapacitated, Merlin is now your ruler and you will show him your respect."

Merlin nodded to Leon in gratitude before addressing the knights holding the three lords. "Take them away," he ordered.

Mordred smiled at Merlin before doing as asked, dragging an angry Lord Fairhurst out of sight. Arthur sent Merlin an approving grin before slapping the warlock on the back – well, trying to because his hand went right through him. The king stumbled before regaining his balance.

"I better not be dead," he muttered in worry; not being able to touch or communicate with anyone was not something he wished to endure for the rest of eternity.

He greatly desired to be with Guinevere but Arthur feared he had to remain near his body in order to get back to it. With one last longing look, he followed Merlin and Gaius as Leon and Gwaine quickly carried his body into the citadel.

Reaching his chambers, Arthur watched as Merlin rushed to the bed, flinging the covers back and stepping out of the way so Leon and Gwaine could settle his body on the mattress. The two knights moved aside so Gaius could examine the king. Arthur was struck once more by how bizarre it was gazing down at his own body. Even he had to admit he didn't look good. His skin was pale, his eyes sunken, and his lips white.

"How is he?" Merlin asked, hovering just behind Gaius.

"His heart has nearly stopped," the physician reluctantly revealed, stepping back. "I fear he's close to death."

"Can you save him?" Merlin desperately inquired.

"The poison is too strong, too virulent. Merlin, your magic is his only hope."

Arthur watched as the warlock's worry shone clear on his face. His body was covered in a light sheen of sweat, his breathing ragged as he leaned over and placed both hands on the king's chest. Merlin's eyes clouded, concern and fear etching their way over his furrowed countenance.

"The sickness is so deep in him," he gasped, shaking his head. He bit his lips and closed his eyes, his voice holding back a sob. "I don't know if I have the power to bring him back."

The care and concern shown by his warlock caused Arthur's heart to ache. How he wished he could comfort him, tell him that he believed in him! If anyone could heal him, Merlin could. Of that he had no doubt.

"Come on, Merlin," he whispered.

"You can do this, Merlin," Gaius stated.

Merlin stepped back, exhaling as he wiped tears from his face. The fear and worry that he would fail his king etched deep into his countenance. Arthur stepped up to him and rested a calming hand on his shoulder.

"I believe in you, my warlock," he muttered. "Gaius is right; you can do this. Bring me back."

Merlin took a steadying breath and Arthur stepped away. The warlock leaned down, resting his hands over his sovereign's chest. " _ **Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare mid þam sundorcræftas þære ealdaþ æ!"**_

He pushed his hands forcefully into the king's chest mid-spell, his eyes igniting their usual flare of gold after the incantation was cast. Merlin slowly moved his hands away and Arthur felt the familiarity of the warlock's magic wrapping around him like a blanket, gently pulling him towards his own body. Darkness clouded his vision and for a moment the king didn't know where he was. Slowly his mind crawled back to awareness and he felt the need to breathe. Inhaling through his nose, his lungs filled deeply with air, the sweet taste of oxygen fueling his heart which worked with renewed vigor to pump blood to the rest of his body. The next sense to return was his hearing, Arthur picking up on someone's relieved laughter as well as other voices exclaiming praises of 'a job well done'.

The king's eyes slowly opened and after his vision solidified he was able to make out Leon and Gwaine clapping Merlin on the back, Gaius beaming at him with fatherly pride. Tears fell freely down the warlock's cheeks.

"You're not _crying_ , are you, Merlin?"Arthur weakly inquired, his voice feeling like it was crawling its way out of his throat.

"Arthur!" Merlin gasped, leaning over him with a tearstained face, his eyes filled with grateful relief.

Arthur grunted in an attempt to clear his airway. "Merlin?" he croaked.

"Yes?"

"Do me a favor."

" _Anything."_

The king's mouth weakly lifted upward in an attempt to smile. "Put a shirt on."

Merlin laughed before wrapping his arms around him, clinging to Arthur's chest as tears fell freely down his face. Arthur smiled as he accepted the embrace, chuckling lightly as he forced energy into his arms so they would lift and secure themselves around Merlin's torso.

"You're alright," Merlin whispered.

"I'm alright," Arthur assured, "Although, I feel as weak as a newborn kitten. You don't think you can give me a strengthening spell, do you? There's much to be done and I need to go to Guinevere."

"You know what happened?" Merlin asked, pulling away.

Arthur nodded before falling back into his pillows. "I saw Horvath stab her with the Questing Beast's fang – as well as everything that happened after he poisoned me. I'll explain that later. Right now, a strengthening spell would be great."

Merlin frowned but did as asked, resting his hand against the king's chest, his eyes lighting up with gold. Strength immediately flew into Arthur's limbs, relaxing the aches in his body and revitalizing the king with renewed energy. Merlin pulled away and the king leapt out of bed.

"I feel _great!"_ he exclaimed. "What spell did you use?"

Merlin shrugged. "None. I just willed my magic to do as you asked."

"Incredible," Arthur praised.

Leon and Gwaine both smiled at him, the former clapping the king on the shoulder. "It's good to see you well, sire," he said.

Arthur nodded to him. "Thank you, Leon. Now come, we must see to Guinevere."

He proceeded towards the door, the others following him out of his room as he headed towards the physician's chambers. It took everything Arthur had not to break out into a run.

 _Please,_ he silently begged, _please let her be alright_.

They reached Gaius's chambers minutes later, Arthur practically breaking the door off its hinges in his hast to get inside. Guinevere lay on the extra cot Gaius kept for patients, her long hair flowing loosely about her pale face. Three druids were standing over her, murmuring spells, their hands glowing as whatever healing enchantment they were using flowed into her wound. Adaline was gently wiping sweat from Guinevere's brow while Hunith was dabbing her own wet cloth repeatedly over the queen's neck and shoulders.

"How is she?" Arthur demanded, striding across the room.

Iseldir seemed to magically appear out of thin air, barring his way from reaching the cot; he'd come to the city to celebrate Merlin's promotion and Arthur's wedding. The king wouldn't admit it to anyone but he jumped out of his skin at the man's sudden appearance. The druid chieftain's eyes were filled with concern as he placed his hands on Arthur's shoulders.

"Arthur," he confessed, "the bite of the Questing Beast is a fatal one. My healers will do everything in their power but I'm afraid we will only delay her passing. There really isn't anything further we can do. I'm sorry, sire."

"No," Arthur whispered, staring over the druid's shoulder towards the pale face of his beautiful bride _. "NO!"_

He shoved Iseldir aside only to have another pair of hands wrap around his torso, preventing him from taking another step – and with that familiar touch his anger fled, replacing itself with hopelessness. Tears filled Arthur's eyes and he twisted around, burying his face in Merlin's shoulder. He never cried in front of others. _Never_. But this was too much. He'd just been healed but he felt like he was dying. His heart was bleeding from the inside out.

"I can't accept this," he quietly sobbed. "I can't watch her die, Merlin… There has to be a way to save her."

Merlin's long fingers rubbed the king's back soothingly. "We'll find a way," he muttered. "I'm not going to let you lose her; not after how long you had to wait to be together."

"You and I both know there's only one way to cure such an injury," Arthur muttered dejectedly.

"Arthur," Merlin began to argue.

Someone timidly spoke up behind them. "Your Majesty?"

Arthur regained control of his emotions before he broke away from Merlin. "Yes?" he asked, realizing it was Adaline addressing him.

The maiden bit her lip a little. "There may be a way to save the queen without having to perform a life exchange."

"What?" both he and Merlin cried together.

"What do you mean?" Merlin asked further.

"My mother used to tell me the stories of her people," Adaline quickly explained. "One of said stories had to deal with a creature of magic whose tears could heal any wound and cure any illness."

Gaius gasped somewhere behind them. "A phoenix," he muttered, "the firebird that lives forever without an end."

"Wait, didn't Arthur nearly die from the eye of a phoenix when he went to the Perilous Lands?" Merlin asked, concerned.

"Yes, he did," Gaius confirmed.

"How can the tears of such a creature heal when the eye itself takes away life?" asked Leon.

"Men hunted them down and stole away pieces of their body for selfish profit," Adaline answered. "When reborn, the phoenix would regain what had been taken but the magical properties of lost eyes and loose feathers would be twisted with magic to accomplish acts of cruelty. Seeing that their power was bringing more harm than good to the human race, the phoenix flocks retreated from the world of men to live in the Forgotten City, a place located on the northern side of the Elven Woods in the Perilous Lands."

"But that is more myth than fact," Iseldir countered. "There are more stories claiming that the firebird no longer exists, the Triple Goddess having removed the phoenix from man's realm because they abused its power."

"Could the tears really heal any wound?" Arthur demanded.

"Yes," Adaline and Iseldir answered at the same time.

"Then we must find one of these birds," the king stated.

"Arthur, we don't even know if they're still around," Gaius countered. "Besides the dragon, it is the purest creature of magic in existence. The legends that the Triple Goddess could have removed it from the earth are entirely plausible."

"Then how can we know?" Arthur shouted angrily.

His wife was dying! If there was a solution that didn't involve having to sacrifice another's life so she might live, he needed to know!

"That's it!" Merlin gasped as he grabbed Arthur's shoulders, his blue eyes shining with renewed hope. "Arthur, besides the dragon, the phoenix is the purest creature of magic to exist!"

"Gaius just said that you idiot," Arthur snapped, shoving Merlin's hands away in frustration.

"But don't you see? If anyone would know if the phoenix was still around, it would be the dragons!"

Arthur's eyes widened, his mind exploding as he comprehended exactly what Merlin was saying. "Of course!" he shouted _. "Of course!"_ He rounded on Iseldir. "How long can your people keep Guinevere safe?"

Iseldir frowned. "Normally such poison will consume the victim within three days but with our magic we should be able to keep it at bay for another four."

"That gives us a week," Arthur muttered. "Iseldir, please do everything you can to keep the poison from spreading. Leon, gather the Knights of the Round Table and prepare for a week's long journey. Merlin and I will leave the citadel to speak with the dragons while you're making preparations."

"But what if the dragons tell us the phoenixes really are gone?" Gwaine reluctantly asked; somebody had to voice the concern.

Arthur's face cleared with firm determination. "Then instead of heading for the Perilous Lands, we'll be traveling towards the Isle of the Blessed."

" _What?"_

The shout was collective, coming from multiple people in the room.

"Arthur, _no!_ " Merlin protested. "I'm not going to let you sacrifice yourself!"

"This is my decision, Merlin, and mine alone to make," Arthur stated with finality. "Should it be the case, Camelot and Albion will survive without me – you and Guinevere will make sure the kingdoms are united."

"Our destiny needs us both, Arthur," Merlin argued. "I will not let you die."

The king smiled resignedly and placed a comforting hand on his warlock's shoulder. "You might not have to. We'll speak with the dragons and then go from there. Don't worry, Merlin. If I can manage it, I'd rather take the road where I remain alive."

The warlock's eyes were filled with fear but underneath lay a cold determination. "You will not die, Arthur," he stated with all the conviction of his soul. "It is not your time to do so."

The king nodded, gratefully patting his shoulder before walking over to where Guinevere lay. While the druids continued to chant their spells, Arthur bent down and stroked his beloved's cheek before kissing her lips.

"I swear I will do everything in my power to heal you," he promised in a loving whisper. "I will not fail you, Guinevere." He then looked up at Hunith. "Take care of her."

The woman's kind eyes softened further as she sadly smiled. "With my life, sire."

Arthur nodded gratefully before kissing his Guinevere one more time. The king then stood and gathered his strength. Now that a plan had presented itself, he felt his courage rising, dispelling his hopelessness. Arthur thought of Destiny and Fate and decided to send up a silent plea as well as a warning:

 _If you want me to be the Once and Future King then you had better help me find a cure for the Once and Future Queen because without her and Merlin, I will never be able to create the world you want me to._

Confidence surging from his form, Arthur sought his warlock's eyes and sent him a steely nod. Merlin sighed before a small, resigned smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Nodding to the king, he followed Arthur out of the room, proving once again that his loyalty indeed was to him forever, no matter how suicidal his decisions seemed to be.

Arthur felt his heart swell as the promise of hope guided them out of the city and into the night. They'd find a way to save his queen, he was sure of it.

* * *

 **I have no regrets because I really love this chapter! Yes, I took the poisoned scene in season 5 and twisted it a bit to fit the purposes of the story. Hope you all enjoyed that. So, Gwen's life hangs in the balance! A quest is required except this time our favorite Knights and King know about a certain warlock's powers. What dangers await them? Tune in next time to find out! Oh, and please review!**

Spell Meanings:

 _ **Ætfón**_ _ **æt sé**_ _**stángaderung:**_ Force to the stone wall

 _ **Swígen:**_ Silence

 _ **Ádón mín gríma:**_ Remove my mask

 _ **Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare mid þam sundorcræftas þære ealdaþ æ!:**_ I heal you thoroughly from your mortal wound with those special powers that are ancient! Oh!


	21. Chapter 21

**Thanks for all the wonderful reviews for the last chapter everyone! I know I kind of threw you a curve ball. There's a lot of emotion going on in this chapter. I hope you guys like what you read. Please review to share your thoughts!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin**

* * *

21: The Search Begins

They rode hard, reaching Merlin's usual clearing in minutes rather than close to an hour like they had before when traveling here on foot. Arthur took care of securing the horses to the trees while Merlin proceeded to the clearing to call the dragons. When Arthur arrived his warlock was sitting in the grass, staring up at the darkened sky.

"Weird to think that only this morning the two of you were wed," he commented as Arthur joined him.

The king let out a frustrated sigh. "I never would have thought my wedding night would turn out like this."

"Yeah, imagine what the people would say if they found out you were spending it with me rather than your wife – OUCH!"

"You deserved that!" Arthur snapped as he pulled his hand away.

Merlin rubbed his ear, a look of offense on his face. "So instead of slapping me upside the head you've decided to pull my hat down or flick my ears? How is that fair?"

"If you want, I could always punch you in the arm," Arthur offered with a grin.

Merlin grimaced. "Save that for the knights."

"What's the matter, Merlin? Not a fan of that kind of horseplay?"

"Receiving a fist-size bruise on my bicep is not my idea of horseplay, Arthur."

"My, how very delicate you are – still a girl, then?"

The warlock shook his head, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth. "Still a prat?"

Arthur smirked before lightly shoving his shoulder with his own. "Idiot." After a pause, however, Arthur's anxiety returned. "What if the elven tales are wrong?"

The king looked up, wondering what kind of emotion he would find on his warlock's face. Merlin was staring off into the distance, a heavy frown on his pale features. "Then I'll do what I was meant to do the first time," he answered.

Arthur frowned. The first time...? _Wait!_

"Merlin, you are _not_ going to sacrifice yourself! What the heck is wrong with you, constantly feeling the need to end your own life?"

"My life is worth less than yours and Gwen's."

"Say that again and I'll throw you in the stocks for a month!" Arthur warned, angered that Merlin even believed this to be true. _"You_ may think your life isn't worth much but it's priceless to me. Did it ever occur to you how I would feel if you left me, Merlin?"

The warlock turned to stare at the king with a furrowed brow. "I never thought–"

"No, you didn't," Arthur snapped. "You've told me many times that we're two sides of the same coin and yet you never have considered just what it would do to me if you left me behind due to some insane belief that you have to keep me happy and safe even if that means sacrificing yourself to do so! Well, I have news for you, you idiot: if you died _I wouldn't be happy!_ I would be utterly _miserable!_ I experienced nearly losing you once and I will never _ever_ go through that again! So stop trying to decide that your death will bring me happiness alright?"

"Then you'd better not think about sacrificing yourself, you arrogant prat, because the coin goes both ways," Merlin mumbled dejectedly.

Arthur studied Merlin intently. The warlock's ebony hair curled slightly under the wide brim of his dark blue hat, his eyes downcast as he pulled some blades of grass out of the earth with his long fingers. A heavy frown played on his face, a look of guilt Arthur had become all too familiar with since Merlin had been restored by Freya. The king's anger dissipated and he let out a sigh of regret. Placing a placating hand on Merlin's shoulder he shook it slightly, waiting until those unique blue eyes caught his own.

Arthur smiled apologetically. "Thank you, Merlin."

The warlock's brow furrowed further than before. "For what?"

"For being so willing to die for Guinevere – for me," Arthur answered. "It means more than you may know."

The warlock smiled. "You're willing to die for her too. I don't know if you'd do so for me though."

"I would without hesitation," Arthur stated immediately, ignoring the desire to tease the warlock with a falsehood.

Merlin's eyes softened. "I know," he whispered.

Arthur let out a frustrated sigh as he looked up at the starry night. "What's taking them so long?"

A soft beating of wings was then heard and Arthur glanced up just as Aithusa appeared, circling around a few times before landing gracefully in the clearing. The second her blue eyes connected with his, Arthur sensed her excitement and stood up to brace himself.

"Arthur!"

The king's eyes widened, his form stiffening in surprise – a very poor decision since the next thing he knew, he was lying on his back in the grass, a large dragon pinning him to the earth. But, in all fairness, it wasn't his fault he was caught off-guard by the light soprano voice coming from Aithusa's mouth!

And besides, Aithusa really was getting too big to keep doing this; in the short three weeks since they'd first been introduced the dragon had grown four feet! Arthur wouldn't have been surprised if she grew to be Kilgharrah's size in a year's time if she kept up such a rapid growth rate.

"A-thusa," he grunted, _"get – off!"_

"Sorry," she muttered, doing as asked.

"You can talk!" he exclaimed, rubbing his chest.

The dragon's lips pulled back revealing a draconic smile. "That's rather observant of you."

Merlin let out a laugh while Arthur frowned and asked, "Are all dragons and dragonlords born with some level of snarky retorts to throw out at will?"

"We just might be," Merlin chuckled, stepping forward to rub Aithusa's head. "When did you start to speak, Aithusa?"

"Around midday, give or take," she mused, sitting back on her haunches with a regal pride in her countenance.

"But, you're still a baby," Arthur argued. "How can you be speaking in complete sentences?"

"Dragons learn things a lot faster than humans," she answered with a dragon-like shrug before her long neck lifted her head towards the sky. "Kilgharrah comes."

Arthur and Merlin both looked up just in time to see the giant golden form of the Great Dragon before he gracefully landed in the middle of the clearing. After he had settled himself in the grass and bowed low to his dragonlord, Arthur and Merlin approached, Aithusa bounding over to her larger counterpart with the energy of youth.

"Young warlock, why do I sense such great anxiety between you and King Arthur?"

"Gwen's dying," Merlin answered, getting right to the point. "Maxim Horvath, one of the Magical Tournament participants, betrayed us."

Arthur then cut in, explaining what had happened. Merlin's brow furrowed and he tried interrupting at one point to ask how Arthur knew all the details but the king only told him he'd explain later. Kilgharrah's frown was heavy by the time he'd finished.

"The bite of the Questing Beast is a fatal one, sire," Kilgharrah sighed. "There is but one way to counter it."

"That's not true," Aithusa interrupted.

The large dragon narrowed his eyes skeptically. "You know of another cure?"

"The tears of a phoenix can cure all ills," the white dragon stated.

Kilgharrah scoffed, "While that may be the case, the phoenix has not been seen on the earth in over a thousand years."

"That doesn't mean they're gone," Arthur argued. "Adaline told us they live in the Perilous Lands in a place called the Forgotten City."

"She's right!" Aithusa confirmed. "I've seen them!"

"Preposterous!" Kilgharrah argued. "I have traveled many times across the Perilous Lands without seeing any of them."

Merlin cleared his throat, stopping both dragons from continuing what was clearly the beginning of an argument. "Not to be indelicate, but, have you traveled to the Perilous Lands since being freed?"

Kilgharrah opened his mouth and then closed it. "I suppose I haven't," he finally confessed.

"Well I have," Aithusa declared.

Merlin looked at Kilgharrah with an accusatory glare. "You let Aithusa wander off alone?"

"Young dragons are meant to explore the land on their own, Merlin," Kilgharrah defensively replied. "We do not coddle our young like humans do."

"Have you forgotten that both of you are the last of your race?" Merlin reprimanded. "If anything happens to her, the dragon line will die! I can't believe you let her out of your sight! She's just a baby!"

"Hey!" Aithusa complained. "I'm not a baby anymore! Compared to humans I'm a teenager!"

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, his anger escalating as an argument ensued between the three concerning age and responsibility. The king tried to be patient but he was Pendragon born; limited temperament was an inbred weakness in his family.

"ENOUGH!" he shouted, interrupting them. "Have all of you forgotten the reason we've gathered?! Guinevere is dying right now! Aithusa says that she's seen a phoenix in the Perilous Lands. Adaline said the same thing. Both of them have been there in the last twenty years – unlike you, Kilgharrah – and that is two witnesses – more than enough to convince me that we need to go to the Perilous Lands."

"But what if both of them were wrong?" Kilgharrah challenged. "Your wife will not last long, even with the aid of magic."

"I told the Old Religion that if it wants me to be the Once and Future King then it better save my wife or else there will be no such sovereign," Arthur snapped. "I'm sticking by that decision no matter what."

"Arthur, to say such things could be dangerous," Merlin warned.

"I don't care!"

"Well you should, you clot pole, because you just might cause someone else to die in order to keep her alive!"

Arthur paused, his irritation and impatience disappearing slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said," Merlin sighed. "When I went to sacrifice my life for yours, the Old Religion wouldn't accept my offering because of the destiny it had given me. It took my mother instead. If you tell it that you won't fulfill your destiny without Guinevere, it could very well take someone else you love in her place to keep her alive. Think about it, Arthur. We could lose Leon, Gwaine, Kay, Gaius – it could be anyone. Are you willing to make such a gamble?"

Realizing his mistake, Arthur's impatience washed away, replaced with guilt. "I didn't know," he whispered.

The warlock sighed, resting a hand on the king's shoulder. "This is why I'm here, Arthur, to help you understand the magical world. You acted in ignorance."

"So did you, young warlock," Kilgharrah pointed out.

"Only because _you_ forgot to mention that my offering would be rejected!" Merlin snapped. As easily as the anger came, it dissipated, replaced with a weary sigh. "Sorry."

"As am I, Merlin," Kilgharrah said regretfully.

Merlin smiled up at him, a sorrowful understanding passing between them. The warlock cleared his throat. "Anyway, Arthur's right; time is against us and we'd be foolish to delay traveling any longer than necessary. Aithusa, are you positive that you saw a phoenix in the Perilous Lands?"

The young dragon nodded. "Yes," she stated with certainty. "It was there, Merlin. I passed over the Elven Woods and came upon a range of mountains unlike any I have ever seen. Magic permeates the air and has lifted the rock. The Forgotten City Adaline spoke of no longer dwells on earth but in the _sky_ , large chunks of rock floating precariously with vines tying them to the earth. It is there I saw the phoenix."

Arthur's first inclination was to dismiss even the remote possibility that what Aithusa had just said was real. The king had seen many magical feats since he'd learned of Merlin's magic and accepted it into his kingdom – the greatest was still credited to the warlock's display of the cosmos in his room – but the mere mention of floating cities was a little too far-fetched for the king to believe.

"Cities do not float, young one," Kilgharrah chided.

Well, apparently Arthur wasn't the only one who thought Aithusa's story implausible. The king looked at Merlin to get his opinion and found the warlock not filled with doubt but with consideration.

"Merlin, do you believe this?" Arthur prompted.

"You don't believe me?" Aithusa asked, hurt in her eyes.

The king bit his lip. "I want to, Aithusa, I really do. But floating cities? I've never heard of such a thing and I've studied countless maps and detailed descriptions of each established kingdom in Albion."

"That might be true but how much information were you able to gather about the Perilous Lands when you went on your quest?" Merlin countered. "There isn't much, Arthur. There's next to nothing written about the Elven Woods – believe me, I've checked. It's very possible that a floating city could have been missed – especially since your father made it his personal life mission to eradicate everything about magic from existence."

Arthur frowned, contemplating everything Merlin had said. He'd made some excellent points.

"Aithusa would not lie about information that concerns the life of the Once and Future Queen," Kilgharrah finally decided. "Much has changed in the Perilous Lands since my imprisonment and release. When Merlin ended the Fisher King's suffering, his freed spirit released the curse that was upon the land. It may not be the same as what is in your memories. I felt the magic shift but I have yet to see the effects with my own eyes."

"Well I saw them," Aithusa said, her eyes softening in happiness. "Green country, white shores, clear blues skies, and magical creatures roaming free; it's paradise."

Arthur and Merlin shared a glance.

"That's definitely not the Perilous Lands I remember," Arthur muttered.

"I guess we'll just have to see how different it is when we get there," Merlin said with a hesitant smile.

Arthur nodded in agreement before turning back to the dragons. "Kilgharrah, Aithusa, thank you for your help. Could you protect Camelot while Merlin and I are gone?"

"We'd be happy to, Arthur," Aithusa said while Kilgharrah nodded.

"If the situation becomes dire in your absence I may have a way of helping the queen remain tethered to this world," Kilgharrah offered. "I could fuse her soul with my magical core. It would be a temporary procedure and I would only suggest it for a day – if she were to remain tied to my magic longer than that, the power would destroy her body."

"Let's pray you don't have to do that then," Arthur muttered, terrified by the thought, "But thank you for the offer, Kilgharrah. I'll be sure to pass along the word to Iseldir."

"Good luck, both of you," Aithusa said, rubbing her head against their thighs. "May your journey be victorious."

The king and warlock turned to reenter the woods when Kilgharrah called out to them.

"Merlin, Arthur, I feel I must caution you. Phoenixes no longer roam the land of men because of the abuse they were shown. The healing power of the phoenix tear is only possible when it comes immediately from the creature itself. You will not be able to simply collect the tears and have them produce the same effect. You must find a phoenix willing to leave its homeland and travel with you back to Camelot. Besides our race, theirs is the noblest of the magical creatures. They will not come with you if they do not feel you are worthy. This is a dangerous mission and one I cannot guarantee will bring success. You must prepare yourself for any outcome, King Arthur."

Arthur did not like the hidden meaning behind those words but he had to acknowledge that Kilgharrah was right. He was trying to remind the king not to close off all possible outcomes; it was wisdom but it still hurt his heart.

"Thank you, Kilgharrah," Arthur sincerely replied before walking away from the clearing with Merlin towards the horses.

A few minutes later they came upon the southern gate. Arthur didn't want to risk running into anyone by taking the main route seeing that it was his wedding night and he should have been in the castle instead of out in the forest with his Court Sorcerer and First Adviser. The king dismounted and handed the reins to Merlin.

"We'll meet back here in twenty minutes. Gather all the supplies you think you'll need – including anything magical. I'll make sure the knights know of the plan."

"Right," Merlin muttered, guiding the horses towards the stables while Arthur proceeded to head towards the citadel.

The castle was surprisingly silent and when he happened on the courtyard Arthur understood why; the festivities were over, the people having returned to their homes. Figuring that Percival was the cause of this, Arthur took the steps two at a time. He hadn't made it far down the main corridor when a set of approaching footsteps made him turn to see Leon, Bedivere, and Kay hurrying towards him.

"Arthur," Leon said with relief. "We were hoping you'd return soon."

"Has something happened?" Arthur asked, fear for his wife plaguing him.

"No, sire," Kay assured. "The others were just getting restless."

"Where are they? I thought all of you would be ready and waiting in the courtyard?"

"Percival only just finished clearing the area five minutes ago," Bedivere revealed. "The rest of us have been preparing supplies as you've ordered. Everyone is ready."

Arthur nodded in approval. "Excellent. Gather everyone together by the South Gate. We're to leave in twenty minutes."

"And where are we headed, sire?" asked Leon.

Sensing the unspoken fear in his First Knight's eyes, Arthur placed a reassuring hand on Leon's shoulder. "It's alright, Leon. The dragons confirmed the existence of the phoenix and the healing properties of its tears. We're heading for the Perilous Lands."

Leon wasn't the only one to visible relax. Bedivere let out a sigh of relief and Kay started to grin, his eyes glinting with adventure.

"Thank goodness," Leon muttered.

Arthur patted his shoulder before stepping back. "I must see to Guinevere and speak with Iseldir but I will meet up with you at the gate. Merlin should be there as well – as long as the idiot doesn't stick with his usual schedule of being late."

The three knights chuckled before inclining their heads, heading for the knights' corridors to tell the others of the plan. Arthur quickly strode off to the physician's chambers. Once there, he quietly entered and observed the scene. Guinevere was still surrounded by Hunith and three muttering druids while Iseldir and Gaius were hard at work making bandages, the druid cutting them up before Gaius soaked them in some kind of liquid. Both looked up as Arthur entered, acknowledging him but continuing in their work.

"How is she?" Arthur asked as he glanced at his wife.

Gaius glanced over his shoulder and smiled sadly. "As well as can be expected, sire."

"My people are keeping the poison from spreading," Iseldir assured.

"Their magic is halting its course," Gaius added. "She should be fine for as long as we've promised."

"Good, because the dragons assured us that the phoenix can be found in the Perilous Lands. We're leaving tonight but before we go I wanted to pass on what Kilgharrah told me."

He quickly explained the dragon's proposition and the dire warning that accompanied it.

Iseldir looked surprised. "To have a dragon offer such a thing," he whispered in awe, "It is a very rare gift; your queen is highly favored, Arthur Pendragon."

Arthur looked over at Guinevere, his countenance softening. "She truly is, Iseldir."

Leaving the two men, the king walked over to his queen, mindful not to disturb the druids who were chanting over her, their countenances focused and their eyes a constant gold. Hunith gave him an understanding nod before leaving the queen's side to give Arthur a moment with her. The king sent her a grateful smile before he took her chair and gently caressed Guinevere's face. It was fairly pale, her eyes sunken, her brow slightly furrowed as an uncomfortable frown pulled at her lips. She was clearly sick and the king felt his heart ache knowing that there was nothing he could do to change her condition without the phoenix. So much was riding on the success of this mission. He couldn't fail. Bending down, he kissed her brow.

"I love you," he whispered softly. "I'll be back soon. I promise."

Reluctant but knowing he had to leave her, he held Guinevere's face for a moment more, memorizing every glorious feature before pulling away.

"Keep her safe, Gaius," he pled.

"I will do all in my power, Arthur," the physician promised.

"As will I and my people," Iseldir assured.

Hunith then surprised the king by enveloping him in a motherly embrace. "Everything will work out, Arthur," she quietly comforted.

The king's heart swelled in gratitude as he stepped out of the embrace, nodding to her. He then walked over to Iseldir and gratefully clasped the druid chieftain's hand.

"Thank you for everything, Iseldir."

"It is an honor to serve you, sire," he said with a gentle smile and a deferential bow.

Arthur inclined his head respectfully before he turned to Gaius. "I'm leaving Sir Pelleas in charge of the knights should there be any trouble. Until I return, you and Geoffrey will manage the kingdom in my stead. I'll draw up a message with my seal and leave it with Daegal; he'll make sure you get it."

Gaius humbly bowed his head. "We'll look after Camelot, Arthur. Good luck. And while I urge you to listen to Merlin should he ask you to do something, please keep an eye on him for me? He tends to get into more trouble than anyone I've ever met."

Arthur managed a small smile as he nodded. "I'll do my best."

Leaving the room, he quickly passed through the halls towards his room. Upon entering he was surprised to see that Daegal was sitting at the table cutting up an apple with a knife.

The young man's eyes brightened at the sight of the king. "They told me you'd be back soon," he grinned.

"What on earth are you doing, lazing around?" Arthur demanded angrily. "Don't you know–"

Daegal held up a hand, shocking the king into silence. "Before you start a streaming tirade about how I should be busy at work packing your bag and making sure everything is ready for your journey, let me interrupt you. Merlin already did everything. He came in like a whirlwind, his eyes literally a constant gold as your things flew out of the closet and into a pack which he then left with. He told me to tell you not to worry about saddling your horse or anything since he'd take care of it. You know, sometimes I think he doesn't like the fact that he's not your manservant anymore."

Arthur pinched his nose. "Idiot," he muttered affectionately. "I told him to get ready himself! What's the point in having a new manservant if he's constantly trying to do your job?"

Daegal shrugged. "He cares about you. I've heard he tends to forget everything else and focus on your needs when the city is experiencing a crisis. I'm not surprised seeing how close you two are. Anyway, is there anything you want me to do while you're gone?"

"Yes, actually," Arthur muttered, striding across the room and quickly writing out instructions. "Tell Sir Pelleas that he's in charge of the knights in my absence – show him this letter – and give this letter," he held up a second piece of parchment – "to Gaius. He'll know what it is. Also, while I'm gone, I expect you to be the eyes and ears of Camelot. Anything suspicious that you see, anything at all, is to be reported to Gaius at once. Other than that, you are to be at the physician's disposal."

"So I'm basically taking over Merlin's other old job as unofficial assistant to the Court Physician," Daegal surmised.

"Yes, now go on! Those letters need to be delivered."

Daegal took the sealed forms and started for the door. He got halfway before turning back. "Arthur?"

The king looked up. "Yes?"

Daegal sent him an appraising look, his eyes filling with inner faith. "Good luck."

Arthur's gaze softened. "Thank you, Daegal."

The young manservant nodded before leaving the room and after a short pause to make sure Merlin really hadn't forgotten anything, Arthur also left, walking swiftly passed the guards towards the passage that would take him to the South Gate.

Sure enough, Merlin was already waiting for him, holding the bridal of his second favorite horse, Acker. The Knights of the Round had all been assembled, their number having more than doubled with the new additions in the last few weeks. Mordred and Balthazar looked a little nervous, this being their first mission as knights and known sorcerers. Tristan and Isolde seemed to exude an inner confidence while Bedivere and Kay were raring to go on their first mission as Round Table Knights. As Arthur drew closer, he realized that Merlin, while ready, looked furious.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Fine," the warlock snapped as he handed Arthur his reins before mounting his own steed.

Arthur raised an eyebrow, catching Gwaine's eye. The knight discreetly flicked his head to the right and that's when Arthur noticed the full head of long red hair seated on a brown mare. Sensing the king's surprise, Adaline spoke up.

"I'm coming with you," she stated, her tone brooking no argument. "I know the Perilous Lands better than anyone present. You'll need a guide."

"I can see the path ahead!" Merlin snapped. "There's no need for you to come!"

"There is every need! You may be a warlock but there are creatures of magic you might run into that could prove challenging. I already know how to communicate with them and that could save you from unnecessary conflict."

"I'm magic incarnate. If there's a need to communicate with magical beings, I'm sure I can figure it out!"

"Instead of being confident and ignorant, perhaps you should rely on someone who already knows how to do such a thing!"

Arthur watched in shocked disbelief as warlock and half-elf practically snarled at each other, anger and frustration uncomfortably permeating the atmosphere. What on earth was going on? Only yesterday Merlin was drooling all over himself over Adaline; now he looked like he was ready to magically toss her from her horse. Were they having a fight? Now wasn't the time for this! Time was of the essence and if Adaline could save them by avoiding conflict with unknown monsters, he'd be a fool to deny her company.

"Enough!" he shouted before the bickering could grow worse. "Adaline has a good point, Merlin. She's familiar with the layout of the land. She should come with us."

Merlin glared angrily at the king before releasing the air from his lungs quickly through his nose. "Fine," he snapped. "Let's go."

And without waiting for Arthur or anyone else, he flicked his reins and forced his horse out of the city at a gallop. Arthur stared after his Court Sorcerer in a combination of anger, shock, and concern. Mounting his horse, he quickly went after Merlin, the others following behind. From the sound, the king discerned that Leon had silently motioned for the others to give the two leaders some space. Good ol' Leon; he always knew when Arthur and Merlin needed to talk.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted, drawing closer to the warlock.

Merlin slowed down just enough for Arthur to catch up, both pulling on the reins until their horses were walking at a steady but comfortable pace; the knights and Adaline must have slowed their pace too, for none overrode them.

Arthur studied his warlock with silent scrutiny. Merlin's features were drawn down in frustration, his eyes burning figurative holes into the back of his horse's head. His hands gripped the reins so fiercely his knuckles were turning white and, if Arthur's suspicions could be confirmed, his teeth were grinding together.

"Mind telling me what the heck is going on?" Arthur demanded, annoyed.

"No."

Arthur's anger flared and his eyes narrowed. Using a tone that demanded subservience, he put all of his frustration into one word that required his warlock to answer him or else.

" _Merlin."_

Merlin turned to him and glared. In the intense gaze, Arthur saw past the anger, defiance, and annoyance. Merlin was hurt and he was scared. Concern eroding away frustration, Arthur's countenance softened.

"Merlin," he repeated – this time in a kinder, more inviting tone.

The warlock looked away. "What do you want, prat?" he whispered, the hurt now evident in his voice.

"Tell me what's going on," Arthur gently commanded. "Did she hurt you?"

"No!" Merlin immediately answered, appalled at the very thought. "It's not like that," he added in a quieter tone.

"Then what happened?" Arthur prompted again.

"I told her to stay away from me."

Arthur stared.

"You – _WHAT?"_

Merlin glared at him and Arthur, apologetic, glanced back at the knights before turning back to him.

" _Why?"_ he whispered.

Merlin shook his head, stubbornly refusing to answer. Arthur felt his frustration rising again. Should he try to exercise patience and wait for Merlin to crack or should he force the answer out of him? Not knowing the exact details was going to drive him crazy – not to mention he wasn't particularly thrilled about traveling through the countryside with an irate warlock. Whatever issues the two were having, Merlin and Adaline needed to work them out because there was no way Arthur was going to deal with their bickering this entire trip. He was already stressed enough with the idea of his wife dying; he didn't need discord among his friends.

"Merlin, are you going to tell me or not?" he demanded, impatience winning the internal war in the end.

The warlock scowled. "Normally I'd tell you to mind your own business but because I know you're only going to keep nagging until I fess up, I'll tell you. Adaline is a distraction I can't afford so I told her there couldn't be anything more between us."

Once again the king found himself staring at his Adviser in disbelief. "You're joking."

Offended, Merlin glared at him. "Not in the slightest."

"Merlin, not to seem indelicate, but it sounds to me as if you're running."

"I am not!"

"Okay, if you're not running then why the need to tell her to leave you alone?"

"Because I can't afford to have a personal life when I have a duty to look after _you!"_ Merlin shouted angrily, his voice more than likely carrying on the wind towards the knights behind them.

Arthur's eyebrows rose and he opened his mouth to angrily retort but Merlin beat him to it. The king had apparently released a dam and the warlock was not going to shut up until everything had been spoken from his mind. His voice lower but still filled with utter frustration and guilt, the Court Sorcerer continued to rant.

"Do you want to know what I was doing when Horvath poisoned you, Arthur? I was off with Adaline, _kissing in an alcove_. Yes, that's right, clotpole _– kissing!_ While your life and Gwen's were put on the line, I was satisfying my own personal desires. Did you know my magic tried to warn me that you were in danger? I felt the usual discomfort clenching my stomach and there was the fleeting thought that I should find where you were _but I ignored it!_ I chose to stay where I was and look what happened! You nearly died – Gwen's on her deathbed – and it's all my fault! If I hadn't been with Adaline I could have stopped all of this from happening! Don't you see, Arthur? I can't afford to give myself to anyone because there is the distinct possibility that you could die. My Destiny is to protect you and nothing can come before that. _Nothing."_

Arthur pulled on Acker's reins, halting the horse to a complete stop. Merlin did so almost at the same time, staring at the king intently. Arthur held up a hand, hoping that Leon would see it in the darkness. With a brief glance, he could just make out the knights in the path, their forms seemingly not moving in the dark shadow of the trees. Turning back to his warlock, Arthur took a deep breath through his nose before drawing back his fist and punching Merlin right in the face.

Completely unprepared for the hit Merlin fell out of his saddle onto the ground. Arthur inwardly winced; he hadn't meant to punch that hard but the idiot kind of needed it. He hurriedly dismounted and walked around to where Merlin lay, stunned, upon the ground.

"What the heck was that for?" Merlin demanded, rubbing his rapidly swelling cheek while tears threatened to fall from his eyes.

"Common sense," Arthur replied, trying to remain stoic despite his desire to apologize and ask if Merlin was alright.

"Since when did common sense mean hitting someone?" Merlin angrily retorted.

"You were clearly suffering from the delusion that you had to sacrifice personal happiness in order to keep me alive."

The warlock pushed himself to his feet. "What are you talking about?"

"Merlin," Arthur sighed before bellowing, "YOU – COMPLETE – _IDIOT!_ I _REFUSE_ TO BE THE REASON YOU DENY YOURSELF FROM LOVING SOMEONE!"

"AND _I_ REFUSE TO LISTEN TO WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY, CLOTPOLE!" Merlin bellowed back.

"SO YOU MADE A MISTAKE! YOU'RE NOT GOING TO MAKE IT AGAIN!"

"YOU CAN'T KNOW THAT!"

Arthur took a deep breath, forcing most of his frustration to simmer before he continued in a softer tone, "Merlin, I can't have you plastered to my side every waking moment of the day. I need to be entitled to _some_ privacy or else I'll go mad! I refuse to have you coddle my safety and forget to live your own life. You have to accept that there are going to be times that I'm going to be hurt – that Guinevere is going to be hurt. If you continue on this insane vigil of keeping me within your sights at all times, I will eventually come to hate you because you are forcing me into a cage. I don't want to hate you, Merlin. I don't want to be at odds with you. But I swear that's what will happen if you make it your life's mission to _literally_ become my shadow!"

Immense hurt filtered through the warlock's blue eyes and all the anger drained away. "But it's my destiny," he whispered.

Arthur calmly took both of his shoulders. "Merlin, I'm beyond grateful that you want to keep me safe but I don't believe that's all you're meant to do. That's not what I _want_ you to do."

"What do you want, Arthur?" he asked, his voice displaying the lost desperation coursing through his soul.

The king surveyed him before speaking from his heart. "I want you to accept that you are capable of making mistakes and that that's alright," he answered. "I will never hold them over your head and neither should you. I want you to be happy in all areas of life – including that of love. Don't turn Adaline away. You need to learn to control your emotions but _indulge_ in them. Don't deny yourself. You'll tear yourself apart – believe me, I know. I want you to remain by my side but respect my privacy. And I want you to fulfill your destiny knowing that the road isn't always going to be smooth."

"But I can't afford to allow myself to be distracted," Merlin argued.

"Believe me, distraction is a welcome thing sometimes," Arthur muttered. "If you were constantly doing what was required of you, you'd eventually run yourself into the ground."

"But your safety is my main concern, Arthur. What if what happened tonight happens again? I almost didn't make it in time. You really have no idea how close to death you were. I almost lost you. I never want that to happen again. I can't _afford_ for it to happen again."

Arthur _did_ have an idea of how close to death he'd been; he'd seen himself after all, as strange as that was to comprehend. He'd also seen how devastated Merlin had been, the flare of fear over the possibility that he was too late shining through his tears as he tried to heal the other half of his coin. Arthur never wanted Merlin to have to live with such a belief again. What could be done to reassure the warlock, to allow him to live freely without the burden of uncertainty?

His magic had warned him but he hadn't listened to it because he had been distracted. So perhaps a greater warning besides just his magic was needed? Because Arthur understood how instincts worked. Sometimes he would have them but would choose to ignore them because personal desire to continue forward despite the clear warning was more pleasing in the moment. But when someone else voiced the same concern, hearing their warning tended to cause him to question personal desire. And, taking it a step further, when a loud noise -such as the warning bell- was heard, Arthur reacted immediately, knowing that something was definitely wrong. So maybe Merlin needed something like a warning bell? Something that could jerk him out of whatever situation he was in to answer a distress call without hesitation.

He voiced his thoughts to Merlin and the warlock stared at him in surprise.

"What?"

Merlin shook his head. "Nothing – you just surprise me sometimes."

Arthur scowled. "I'm not an idiot, Merlin."

"I know that," Merlin grinned, "but the disease of being a prat tends to blind you from intelligence."

"Hey!" Arthur complained, going for Merlin's hat only to realize it wasn't on his head. That's when he noticed Merlin's attire. "Why are you wearing your old servant clothes?" he asked with a frown.

Merlin grinned. "Wow, it took you this long to notice?"

"Shut up."

The grin only widened much to Arthur's chagrin.

"If you must know, it's the perfect cover. Who would expect a lowly-looking servant to be the Court Sorcerer? Knowing the likelihood that we'll run into bandits is fairly high, I figured I'd like to take them by surprise."

The king frowned. It was a good plan, he had to admit. "Alright, fine," he conceded. "But if you're dressed like a servant then you have to act like one."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "That shouldn't be too hard, seeing as I have years of practice."

Arthur settled for flicking his ear in response, Merlin scowling and rubbing the offended area.

"Why do you feel the need to do that?" he grumbled. "My ears are delicate!"

"It's not my fault you took away the hat, Merlin."

"It would have been a dead give away!"

"Do you miss it?" Arthur teased.

"Not in the slightest."

"Merlin, you're in denial."

"No I'm not."

"You miss the hat."

"I don't."

"You do."

Arthur grinned and Merlin rolled his eyes. "Dollophead," he grumbled.

The king laughed before taking his warlock's shoulder and applying a subtle amount of pressure. Sobering immediately, he looked Merlin right in the eye. "Promise me you'll clear things up between you and Adaline tonight."

 _"Tonight?"_ Merlin glanced over his shoulder nervously. "Can't you give me a few days?"

"No, Merlin. I will not have discord on this journey. You're idiocy hurt her feelings and she needs to understand where you were coming from. Believe me, an angry woman is not the best company – particularly when you're the source of her anger. I learned long ago that when I made a woman mad, I needed to apologize. They have a remarkable capability of holding grudges."

"Something tells me you're speaking of Morgana before she turned evil," Merlin muttered.

Arthur nodded, the familiar sadness over his sister's choices stirring around in his heart. "Trust me when I say, Merlin, if you want to have a good relationship with a woman, learn to swallow your pride and apologize. It'll be worth it in the end."

The warlock let out a wary sigh. "Alright, I'll talk to her tonight – but I'm not doing it in plain view of everyone else!"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I'm not that insensitive, Merlin. These kind of things _should_ be private. I'll come up with a way to get the two of you alone when we find a place to make camp."

"Do you want to do that now or are you going to drive us another three hours into the forest?"

"Eager to get it over with, are we?" Arthur teased.

Merlin's eyes dropped to his boots. "You know me, Arthur – I hate being at odds with anyone. It hurts too much."

Compassion filled the king and Arthur wrapped his arms around Merlin, holding him tight to his chest. "Then do the right thing and talk to her," he advised. "It'll make the pain go away."

Merlin nodded against his shoulder, letting out a heavy sigh. Arthur patted his back comfortingly before the two stepped away. The king studied his warlock with an appraising eye.

"You ready?" he asked.

Merlin nodded. "Yeah."

Arthur returned to his horse and the two of them mounted, the king silently ordering Merlin to wait while he turned his steed and cantered over to the knights. Despite the shadows of the night none of them had missed the embrace shared; Arthur could tell by the smug grin on Gwaine's face and the kind smile Isolde was sending his way. Praying that his cheeks weren't burning, Arthur addressed Leon, attempting to put off what had just occurred as nothing but normal.

"We're going to find a place to make camp for the night," he told him. "Everyone keep a look out for a suitable clearing."

He then turned his horse around but before he could urge it to start walking again, Gwaine called out behind him.

"Is it safe to close the distance now or do you and Merlin still need some time _alone?"_

The king rolled his eyes, praying for patience. "One of these days I just might ask Merlin to turn you into a toad, Gwaine," he called over his shoulder as he nudged Acker in the sides, the horse immediately moving forward.

There was a soft round of chuckling as the knights began following after the king, Merlin waiting for them until they were one big group traveling down the dirt path.

It took another ten minutes before Merlin declared that he'd spotted a reasonable space to settle for the night. Several times Arthur had noticed the warlock's eyes occasionally glowing gold and his head moving discreetly back and forth; 'seeing the path ahead' as he'd called it. Upon reaching the clearing, Arthur determined it good and everyone dismounted, preparing to settle for the night. Everyone was tired from the earlier wedding festivities so there wasn't much conversation to be had as bedrolls were pulled out. Arthur did give the order for both Adaline and Merlin to gather firewood, the warlock looking terrified and the half-elf irritated as they both begrudgingly did as asked. Arthur offered to take first watch despite several protests but eventually his glare won out in the end and his knights quickly fell to sleep.

Arthur got a fire going, prodding around the small flame with a stick, his mind far away. He couldn't believe that just a few hours earlier he'd married Guinevere and danced with her in the courtyard. So much had happened and never would he have believed it if someone told him he'd be spending this night alone in the woods instead of in the royal chambers with his new wife. Anger flickered through his heart.

Why did his sister feel the need to ruin everything? Every time Arthur was about to experience happiness, Morgana tried to take it away. She had become so bitter and full of hate. There had been a part of him that hoped she would see past her anger when he changed the laws concerning magic. But Horvath, her newest lackey now that Agravaine was dead, had accused him of using magic for his own selfish gains. Why couldn't these people see that he had no desire to enslave their kind but to embrace and accept them?

Arthur became lost in memories of a time when he and Morgana were friends, where they teased each other, supported one another, and looked out for the other in times when their father had been blinded by anger over their actions. There had been so many times Arthur had looked up to Morgana for speaking up when nobody else would, for challenging any who opposed her. He deeply mourned losing the woman he'd long seen as a sister before learning her true heritage. Knowing that they were related made the pain so much more. This led him to think of Agravaine and his father. Like Morgana they allowed hatred to consume them. How on earth had Arthur been spared from the emotion that had clearly driven his family into madness?

The king smiled unconsciously when the image of a young man challenging him in the market came to mind. _Merlin_ , he silently chuckled. Merlin had changed everything. Because of Merlin, Arthur developed not only a spirit of camaraderie with his knights but a brotherhood. His men were his _family_. Because of Merlin, he now had Guinevere as his queen.

Guinevere…

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to keep the tears from falling down his cheek. This was supposed to be the night they consummated their marriage, the night they joined together in love and harmony. But instead he was out here in the forest while she lay on her deathbed. Arthur leaned forward, holding his head in his hands, his fingers tightening around his hair as he tried to suppress his desire to scream in anguish. How he desperately hoped they would find a phoenix willing to come with them. He didn't know if there would be time to go to the Isle of Blessed if they didn't. He had a terrible feeling that if this quest failed then Guinevere would be lost to him forever.

"Please don't let that happen," he whispered past the lump in his throat. "Please…"

The snapping of several twigs was heard and Arthur forced his emotions behind a mask of indifference as he looked up, his hand on Excalibur's hilt. His stance immediately relaxed, however, when he recognized the familiar form of Merlin stepping into the clearing holding hands with Adaline. A smile climbed the king's face and he pretended not to watch as Merlin set down the firewood under his free arm and bid Adaline goodnight with a kiss, moving her hair away from her face. Arthur's eyes widened as Adaline's ear was revealed. The top was not rounded but drawn into a sharp point. No wonder the woman kept her hair in her face; her ears would stick out a mile away in any crowd. Was that an elf thing?

"Merlin," Adaline hissed, moving her hair back in place to hide her ears.

"What?" Merlin smiled. "The only one awake right now is Arthur and he already knows the truth."

Adaline's cheeks darkened. "I know but…"

Arthur decided to throw in his opinion. They already knew he was listening in anyway. "You shouldn't be ashamed of who you are," he counseled.

Adaline stared at him, her green eyes seemingly probing at his soul. "It does not bother you?"

Arthur shook his head. "Not at all," he answered truthfully.

The half-elf glanced around at the others. "What about them? They will look at me differently."

"The people around you have come from many different walks of life," Arthur consoled. "They are not shallow in any sense of the word. They will accept you as I have. Trust me."

Merlin nodded to her encouragingly. Adaline bit her lip before taking a deep breath. "Alright," she whispered, "I will no longer hide from your family, Merlin."

The warlock kissed her forehead. "Get some sleep," he advised.

She smiled at him, inclined her head to the king, and then wandered over to her bedroll which Arthur had instructed to be set up next to Merlin's and his own in their absence. After she was settled, Merlin sat down next to Arthur.

"You should go to sleep, Merlin."

"So should you. Out of everyone, you've had the most stress-filled day. You were poisoned earlier, Arthur. The magic boost I gave you will be running out soon and your body is going to be in need of rest."

"I'll be fine."

"Don't make me force you to sleep."

"If you dare put a sleeping spell on me, Merlin, I'll have Mordred turn you into a stoat."

Merlin snorted. "I'm sure that'll last long. You wouldn't survive a full day without me."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Go to bed, you idiot."

"Not until you do."

"For the love of – I'm not going to sleep until my watch ends! That's in another hour."

"Fine, then I'm staying up with you."

Arthur glared at him but the determined glint in his warlock's eyes told him it would be pointless to argue further. "You are such a stubborn idiot," he sighed, shaking his head.

"I learned from the best," Merlin teased, poking the king in the arm.

Arthur laughed briefly through his nose, a small smile on his face. A comfortable silence passed between them before the king's thoughts became occupied once more with the precarious situation they'd found themselves in. Merlin, somehow sensing the source of his distress, placed a hand on his shoulder.

"She's going to be fine, Arthur."

Arthur nodded before sighing. "I recognized he wasn't you, you know – when Horvath used his magic against us. Too bad that was what it took for me to realize that I was with an impostor instead of you. His magic was so dark, so full of hatred. I don't understand why he and Morgana believe that I only legalized magic to selfishly use it. I just want your people to be accepted, Merlin. I don't want them to have to live in fear anymore."

"I know that, Arthur," Merlin smiled. "It's going to take time convincing the others though and some might never be convinced. Maxim Horvath has already been tainted by hatred and bitterness. I don't think there was anything you could have said to change his mind."

"Not that he allowed me to say anything," Arthur grumbled.

And then he was telling Merlin everything that had happened, from the moment Horvath led them away to when he watched Merlin heal him in his chambers.

"It was the strangest experience I've ever had," he finished. "I suppose you've never witnessed something outside of your own body, have you?"

Merlin shook his head, still shocked by what Arthur had revealed. "I've never heard of such things but, then again, many unexplained situations occur that not even the theories of magic can decipher. I'm just glad that I was able to bring you back."

Arthur smiled. "I had faith that you would."

"I think I felt it too," Merlin confessed. "Right before I tried to heal you, I felt some rush of encouragement. That must have been from you."

Arthur's smile widened and he clapped the warlock on the back. "Well, I couldn't very well watch as you gave up without trying, now could I?"

Merlin chuckled. "I'm glad you didn't."

"I'm proud of you, Merlin," Arthur said suddenly.

"What?"

"I'm proud of you," the king repeated. "I knew that you had what it takes to put those insufferable lords in their place. I think I might remove them from the council."

"You can't do that!" Merlin argued.

Arthur stared. "I thought you'd be supportive. Merlin, those men obviously don't have any desire to change their ways."

"Arthur, you can't go sacking everyone who has a different opinion than your own. You must be a king who considers every viewpoint no matter if you favor it or not. The lords are stuck up and blinded by hatred but if you cast them out now their hatred will only grow. We don't want to add more enemies to our list."

"Then what should I do about them?"

"Counsel with them," Merlin advised, "Explain your reasoning for giving me more authority than I frankly ever wanted. You need to prove that you trust them with your decisions. If you keep things from them, they'll only resent you. Making things clear is vital in running a healthy kingdom, Arthur. If you want your kingdom to be built on trust, it must start from within."

Arthur weighed Merlin's counsel before lightly chuckling. "Once more I am audience to your rare spouts of wisdom."

"Rare? I tend to have many of those."

"There you go, being conceited again. While I admit you have some wisdom, Merlin, I fear it manifests itself in moments not spades. Even then those tend to be blocked by a consistent wall of idiocy."

"Oh, I don't think so," Merlin playfully argued. "I think it's your own Prat Wall that's doing the blocking."

Arthur lightly shoved him, both laughing quietly in order to not disturb their companions. The lightheartedness eventually faded and Arthur unconsciously leaned his head against Merlin's shoulder, closing his eyes. He suddenly felt bone-tired and it was with great effort that he realized Merlin's strengthening spell must have worn off; his body was weaker from the earlier poison than he'd thought.

"Tell me that everything's going to be okay, Merlin," he muttered sleepily, voicing his inner fear. For some reason he felt the utmost need to be reassured before allowing sleep to claim him.

Merlin put his arm around the king's shoulders and obliged his request. "Everything will be alright, Arthur," he promised with strong conviction. "I know it will. Now get some sleep."

"Don't… tell me… what to do," Arthur softly grumbled, his words involuntarily slurring.

The ghost of a chuckle was the last thing he heard before his body won out the battle of his stubborn spirit and Arthur slipped into the comforts of sleep.


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin**

* * *

22: Limitations Are Not Necessarily Restrictions

The next morning Arthur woke lying down on his bedroll. How on earth had he ended up here? The last thing he remembered, he was sitting next to Merlin by the fire. Wait –

Had he fallen asleep on Merlin's shoulder?!

Arthur felt his cheeks reddening as he came to the realization that yes, he had. But that surely wasn't his fault! The idiot's spell had worn off and with it went his strength. He couldn't keep his body up and rather than falling face-first into the fire, he'd settled for resting on Merlin's shoulder. Yes, that was an acceptable explanation.

Rolling over and meeting the first rays of dawn, Arthur noticed Merlin was fast asleep to his right, his mouth slightly open, his black hair tousled all over the place. The king unconsciously smiled, remembering how the five year old Merlin looked the same way when asleep. A small twinge of sadness coursed through him and Arthur forced thoughts of Arlin away. He didn't miss the five year old! Not at all.

Getting up, Arthur stretched and surveyed the rest of the camp. Tristan was on watch duty, nodding to the king from over by the fire. Arthur nodded to him as well before going off into the woods to relieve himself. When he returned, Leon, Bedivere, Kay, and Elyan were all awake, rolling up their bedrolls and preparing for eventual departure. A quick breakfast was in order so, naturally, Arthur went to the one who used to provide such things for him every morning.

"Merlin," he said, shaking the warlock's shoulder. "Come on, you idiot, its morning and you need to make breakfast."

Merlin groaned, rolling over to scowl up at the king. "You have two hands. Why not use them and make it yourself?"

Arthur responded to that by ripping the blanket away from the warlock. Merlin hissed in protest as the cold hit him from all sides and sat up, angrily glaring at Arthur for daring to do such an unkind thing.

"Arthur!" he complained, reaching for the blanket.

"I asked nicely and you didn't move. Now come on."

He then walked away with the blanket, peeking over his shoulder just in time to see Merlin getting to his feet, grumbling the whole way. The king chuckled. Yep, just because titles had changed didn't mean the warlock had; Merlin had always hated getting up even if he still normally rose with the sun. Joining the growing number of knights around a now rather warm fire, Arthur decided to sharpen the dagger in his boot while Merlin set to work cooking up breakfast. It was rather entertaining to watch the pan move on its own over the fire while the eggs cracked and fell into it, a spoon stirring the contents without aid. Merlin, having fetched the plates, came over to the fire and sat down next to Arthur. With a flash of his eyes the plates went out to each knight and then the pan moved around scooping a generous helping of eggs onto each one. Gwaine looked rather entertained as he watched his plate fill, nodding to Merlin in thanks with a huge grin on his face.

Adaline joined them a few moments later with her hair pulled back away from her features, the red locks having been braided into a thick plait down her back, completely exposing her pointed ears. She wore a green tunic threaded with thick brown string and dark trousers with brown boots. Two belts wrapped around her waist, one sporting a dagger, while a quiver of arrows slung across her back. She placed a magnificently crafted bow next to her on the ground and ignored the overawed faces of the knights as she accepted the breakfast Merlin offered. Arthur inwardly approved of her appearance since he knew she was sticking with her promise not to hide who she was anymore. From the way Merlin was staring at her, the king knew he highly approved of the change– for multiple reasons.

About half an hour later, the group was back on the trail, heading towards Mercia with Arthur, Merlin, and Adaline in the lead. The king had ordered for the knights to place their red cloaks in their bags – they were heading into enemy territory and the last thing Arthur needed was being captured when his wife's life was in danger.

"It'll take a full day to get through Mercia," he muttered to Merlin while the others chattered behind them about something trivial. "And that's only if we don't run into any–"

To Merlin's right, Adaline suddenly whipped out her bow and shot an arrow so quickly that Arthur didn't understand what had happened until a man fell from the trees twenty feet from them onto the forest floor.

"Adaline, what–?" Merlin began but his inquiry was cut short by the screams of bandits.

Arthur leapt from his saddle, yanking Excalibur from his horse, frustration coursing through him. Of course, _of course,_ they had to run into bandits! Why was it that they _always_ ran into some kind of problem when they ventured more than five miles away from Camelot?

The king blocked the first bandit's strike before punching the fool right in the mouth and plunging his sword into his gut. The knights rushed passed him to deal with further oncoming threats and that's when Arthur noticed a tree branch fall from above and hit a rather angry looking man attempting to attack him from behind. The king turned around and caught Merlin's eye.

"You don't have to be discreet anymore you know," he snipped as the warlock grinned.

"I know but that doesn't mean tree branches have lost their effectiveness."

Arthur watched as Adaline ran from Merlin's side to smack a man in the face with her bow before loading it and shooting an arrow across the path towards another bandit who had almost struck Isolde in the side. The arrow plunged right into the man's head. Arthur's jaw dropped as Adaline's accuracy proved itself again; the half-elf took down three more men in less than ten seconds, every strike leading to a quick death.

"Sire, more converge from the trees!" Leon shouted as he fought off his opponent.

After intercepting and taking down another foe, Arthur yelled in frustration towards Merlin, "We don't have time for this!"

"I know."

The warlock's answering tone and expression surprised him. The blue in Merlin's eyes had darkened, the depths seeming to spark with gold. A fearsome scowl drew his eyebrows together and his shoulders straightened.

"Tell the others to get behind me," he commanded.

The tone of his voice sent a chill down Arthur's spine and the king wasted no time shouting for the others to retreat. Leon and Bedivere were the most shocked to hear those words coming from their sovereign but they did as they were bid, abandoning their opponents and joining the others in their rush back towards the king.

"What's wrong?" Gwaine demanded.

"I'm ending this," Merlin stated before walking passed the gathered knights and facing the bandits who were laughing and rushing towards them.

Merlin took a deep breath before quickly crouching down on the ground, a guttural spell escaping his throat. Arthur expected him to make another earthquake -like what he'd done during the battle to reclaim Camelot- but instead of the ground shaking when Merlin slammed his palms into the dirt, it _tore apart_ like a garment being ripped in half! The land split from Merlin's palms, the black chasm swallowing the bandits who screamed in surprise and terror as they fell into the darkness of the earth. With another shouted spell, the ground sealed itself back together, the path appearing as if it hadn't been split at all.

Arthur was frozen in complete shock. He'd never seen such a magical display before. Merlin had literally ripped apart the earth! And he'd done it with what looked like little to no effort!

"Just how powerful is he?" Tristan whispered in fearful awe as the warlock stood and grimly walked back to where the others stood waiting, a regretful frown on his face.

"Merlin, mate…" Gwaine began but then faltered, unable to say what was truly going through his mind.

Merlin looked around at his friends and bit his lip nervously. "I read their minds before I – they weren't good men – trust me, Arthur, I wouldn't have done that if there had been good in them."

The king blinked. Merlin was silently pleading for acceptance from _him?_ Was he worried that he'd hate him after what he'd just witnessed? Arthur couldn't lie and say that there wasn't part of him that was afraid – yes, afraid – of what Merlin was capable of doing; if he wanted to, the man could wipe out an entire kingdom with such a spell! How could Arthur _not_ be apprehensive over that realization? But he wasn't going to reject Merlin for what he'd done. Arthur glanced around at the knights. Each was staring at the warlock as if they'd never seen him before. Bedivere, Elyan, and Kay seemed reluctant to go near him while the others had a hint of the same fear Arthur had.

 _It would appear that none of us really understand just how powerful he actually is_ , Arthur silently realized. _Maybe we'll never understand_ …

Hurt and shame flooded into Merlin's eyes and the warlock looked away, his head bowed in an attempt to hide his emotions. Arthur broke away from the others and sheathed his sword before enveloping the warlock in a firm embrace.

"It's alright," he muttered soothingly.

"You don't hate me?" Merlin muttered, his hands still at his sides.

"It's like you said, Merlin; you wouldn't have done that if they were good men."

The warlock swallowed painfully and quickly rubbed at his eyes as Arthur pulled away. "You know I wouldn't," he mumbled, his eyes still downcast. "I'm sorry I scared you."

"I wasn't scared," Arthur automatically denied.

Merlin finally looked up, sending his king a skeptically raised eyebrow.

Arthur frowned. "Alright, maybe I was a little – but, in my defense, I've never seen a sorcerer do something like that before."

"It requires a lot of magic," Merlin muttered, looking away again. "I'm not sure if anyone else _can_ do it."

"You may be right," Mordred commented, he being the first to get over his apprehension to approach the warlock and king. "You're the first I've ever seen perform such a spell. You've definitely grown stronger since last we met, Emrys."

"Should I take that as a compliment?" Merlin asked, still nervous about what the others thought of him.

"A compliment, I would say," answered Balthazar. "Mordred's right; that was the strongest magic I've ever witnessed. There are very few who can command the earth like that and none that I've seen could do so with such a spell. Remind me to never challenge you to a duel."

Merlin gave him a hesitant smile just as Gwaine called out, "The same goes for me, Merlin. Even if I'm drunk, don't take up any of my offers to fight, alright?"

The warlock's shoulders relaxed further. "They don't hate me," he whispered so quietly only Arthur could hear.

The king clapped the warlock on the shoulder. "Did you honestly think they would?"

"Did you forget I have issues with acceptance?" Merlin muttered back.

Adaline then appeared at his side, threading one of her porcelain hands through his own. "Are you alright?" she asked, smiling up at him.

Merlin relaxed and nodded, "Yeah."

Knowing his warlock was in good hands, Arthur left Merlin's side to direct the knights to search out the horses. After an hour, each one was accounted for but Arthur wasn't pleased by how much time had slipped by. He'd glanced multiple times at the sun, frustrated by how high it now appeared to be. At this rate they wouldn't make it to the border of Mercia until after dark and that was only if they didn't face another delay.

"We can't afford to run into another attack like that," he said to Merlin as the others finished an inventory of their possessions; it was rather common to find things missing after an ambush.

The warlock rubbed the back of his head. "I might be able to help out with that..."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well," Merlin hastily explained, "there's this new spell that I read from one of the books you gave me from the vaults. The theory is that it opens a temporary gateway that allows one to cover many leagues just by stepping through it. If I word the spell correctly, it should create a doorway that opens up right on Mercia's border."

Arthur stared. "You can actually do that?"

"I've never tried it," Merlin repeated, "but I could give it a go."

"That would save us an entire day's worth of travel!" Arthur realized, sudden excitement filling him at the prospect. "Why didn't you suggest this sooner?"

Merlin sheepishly fiddled with his worn neckerchief and briefly glanced at Adaline. "I was kind of distracted by other things…"

"Oh, right," Arthur muttered, remembering last night. "Well, give it a go then! Wait, can you make this doorway big enough for the horses to get through?"

"I should be able to. I'd suggest leading them through it on foot though – we wouldn't want anyone to get thrown off should one of them become scared."

"Good point," Arthur agreed. "Men! And – er- women," he added when noticing Isolde and Adaline, "Merlin's going to try something."

The warlock then briefly explained his plan.

"That requires a lot of magic though," Balthazar pointed out. "Not only will it take a lot to conjure the gate but you'll also have to feed it with your magic to keep it open while all of us pass through."

Concerned, Percival looked at Merlin. "Is that going to be a problem?"

"I'll be fine," Merlin assured, turning away and walking a few paces down the path. The warlock then raised both hands and commanded in the ancient tongue, " _ **Feccan ús geond sé holts hiderryne æt sé ælfylce sylfum Mercia!"**_

There was a pause and suddenly a small ball of light appeared in the path, the glow growing brighter and brighter, it's width expanding. The wind picked up, ruffling Arthur's hair and chainmail, causing the king to shield his eyes from the dust as it rushed past. An image began to form before Merlin, one that was completely different from the forested path where they currently stood. It was like looking out a window, the edges surrounded by trees overlooking a brown valley – the beginning of the Perilous Lands. Arthur remembered staring at the same scenery years ago when he was on his quest to find the Fisher King's trident.

"Wow," Percival breathed, staring openmouthed at the anomaly Merlin had created.

"We need to move quickly," Mordred advised. "Merlin can only keep the gateway open for so long."

Arthur noticed that Merlin's hands were still stretched outward, his form unmoving. A sense of urgency stole over the king and he quickly tied the reins of Merlin's steed to his own before grabbing Acker's bridal, leading both horses towards the magical door. He glanced at Merlin, noticing the warlock's eyes were still burning gold, his gaze focused solely on the opening he'd created. Taking a deep breath, Arthur stepped through the door, the horses surprisingly following him without fear.

It was the strangest thing; the scenery around Arthur changed dramatically, the colors of the forest not as vibrant and the warmth from the desert-like lands ahead suddenly brushing against his face. Arthur didn't stop, however, knowing the others would be passing through the gateway themselves. Leading the horses a safe distance away, he tethered them to a secure tree branch before turning back to the magical door just as Leon and Bedivere came through leading their steeds along. The others followed after them, each displaying a look of wonder – and in Balthazar and Mordred's case, awe. Merlin followed after Adaline, turning his back and stepping backwards so his outstretched hands were the last things to cross through the doorway. Once on the other side, the warlock muttered some gibberish and the darker, evergreen forest they'd been standing in minutes before vanished from sight, the image shimmering until it blew away in the wind.

"That was incredible, Merlin!" Gwaine praised as the warlock lowered his hands.

Merlin turned to look at them, the gold fading from his eyes. His face suddenly drained of color and he fell to his knees. Several people cried out, Adaline and Percival being nearest and able to steady Merlin before he fell face-first into the dirt. Arthur abandoned the horses to run to his brother's side. He arrived just as Merlin passed out, his chin falling to rest on his chest.

Panicked, Arthur turned to the only ones who could possibly explain this. "Mordred, Balthazar, what just happened?"

Sorcerer and druid shared a glance before Mordred hesitantly answered, "Normally such things happen to sorcerers when they overexert themselves."

Balthazar nodded. "I've passed out many times from using too much of my magic all at once. I just never thought it would happen to Merlin. He is Emrys, magic incarnate… I did not think he would have limitations like other sorcerers…"

"Was it the gateway?" asked Elyan.

"It could have been," Balthazar shrugged.

"That spell required an incredible amount of magic," Mordred said, "And for Merlin to sustain it that long – it very well could be the source of his fatigue."

"But it only took a few minutes for all of us to get through," Tristan argued. "Merlin's magic surely shouldn't have drained so much in so short a time."

"We can discuss what actually happened after we find a place for Merlin to rest," Adaline stated as she rested a hand on the warlock's pale cheek.

Gwaine caught Arthur's eye. "I think I might know of one."

"The bridge keeper," Arthur agreed, nodding.

In order to reach the Fisher King's lands before, Arthur had to cross a bridge that was guarded by a man named Grettir. The gatekeeper had told him he would need Strength and Magic in order to complete his quest; funny how he'd never realized that Merlin was Magic and Gwaine, Strength. He supposed he hadn't due to the Eye of the Phoenix that Morgana had given him as a 'gift'. It had been draining his life force after all, completely messing with his usual immaculate warrior skills. If he had been at full strength, he was sure he would have been more focused and able to connect the dots behind the titles. Oh well; he'd figured out the truth eventually and that was all that mattered now.

Scooping Merlin into his arms, Arthur carried the warlock over to his horse. Leon helped to set him in front of Acker's saddle and kept him steady while Arthur settled in behind him, wrapping his arms around Merlin's chest to keep him in place. The warlock's head unconsciously fell against the king's shoulder.

"Let's go," Arthur ordered to the others. "The bridge keeper's cottage should be at the base of this ridge."

The knights and Adaline mounted their steeds and followed the king down the ridgeline at a steady pace, all of them hoping they'd reach the cottage soon. Merlin did not look well. He was so cold that Arthur could feel the chill through his leather gloves. Shallow breaths were escaping the unconscious warlock's mouth and his body was involuntarily shivering. The king unconsciously picked up the pace.

It was truly a relief to see the rickety wooden bridge ten minutes later. A small cottage was just to the right of it, half covered in moss and looking as if the structure would collapse with the slightest breath of wind. At their approach, the tiny door to the humble abode opened and Grettir stepped out, a knowing look in his eye and a frown on his face.

"So Courage has returned," he greeted, bowing low to the king as Kay assisted Arthur with lowering Merlin out of the saddle. Grettir looked at the warlock once he was back in the king's arms, his frown deepening. "It would seem that Magic is not doing so well. Bring him inside."

Arthur shared a skeptical glance with Kay. The door to Grettir's cottage was about four feet high and the whole structure appeared as if it would fit perhaps four of their company. Arthur would have to stoop low just to get inside and with Merlin in his arms, it was going to be tricky. He didn't want to drag him by the arms so the only alternative would be to throw him over his shoulder – but even then he'd have to make sure he didn't smack the idiot's head against the door frame.

"Leon, you and the others set up camp and wait out here. Adaline, help me get Merlin inside without hitting his head," Arthur commanded before hoisting his warlock over his shoulder and wandering over to the door.

Bending his knees, the king shuffled forward, feeling Adaline right behind him to offer assistance. After some maneuvering, the two were able to get inside without causing Merlin further injury but they didn't venture further into the house. How could they? Arthur stood transfixed, his jaw dangling at the sight that met his eyes. The only explanation to what he was seeing was magic.

While the outside of Grettir's hut looked small, the inside was enormous. The open space they looked upon was something akin to a sitting room, the size comparable to Arthur's private chambers back in Camelot. Comfortable furniture made of animal skins, hand-crafted wood, and plush pillows circled around a bear rug in front of a roaring fire. A large cooking pot was currently settled over the flames, the aromas of a delicious stew filling Arthur's lungs and making his mouth instantly water. In the far corner of the sitting room was a staircase that led to an open balcony and several doors – private rooms, Arthur imagined. There were five in all. An open doorway to the left gave a small glimpse of a magnificent kitchen and another door, built into the other corner of the room, was the one Grettir emerged from, one of his eyebrows lifting in amusement at the overawed faces of his guests.

"Well, don't just stand there," he said, causing Arthur and Adaline to jump. "I'm not sure Magic would appreciate hanging over your shoulder any longer than he has to."

With that, Grettir went through the doorway he'd just come from – the height fit for a regular man – and after a shared glance with Adaline, Arthur crossed the wooden floor to follow after him. The room he entered turned out to be a spare bedroom, the inner chamber large enough to make any royal guest satisfied with the space. A handsome four poster bed with an evergreen comforter and dark brown pillows sat against the wall. Opposite it was a large wardrobe with ornate carvings of various forest animals and a partition screen stood in the corner close to it, a tub barely visible behind. A dark mahogany table and four chairs occupied the right side of the room, a neat stack of parchment, bottle of ink, and eagle feather quill the only objects on the surface. Brass candelabras sported white candles but their flame wasn't the only thing lighting the room. Little balls of light lazily moved around the ceiling, the magic within them providing the space with a cheerful golden glow.

"Rest him on the bed," Grettir instructed as he used magic to pull the comforter down.

Arthur did as asked, gently setting his warlock on the soft mattress before stepping back. Adaline immediately set to work removing Merlin's boots while Grettir quickly walked out of the room. He returned a moment later with a tray laden with several herbs, water, a mixing bowl, a rounded tool, and a cup. As he neared the table, a little stepping stool magically appeared from thin air and Arthur watched with silent fascination as the small sorcerer set to work grinding the herbs together in the bowl before adding a small amount of water to the mix. Setting the rounded tool aside, Grettir held up the bowl and began to whisper in the ancient tongue. His eyes lit with gold and the once green concoction transformed into a powder blue. With a satisfied nod, he added more water, stirred the contents, and dumped them into the cup before holding it out to Arthur.

"Give him this," he ordered, "and make sure he drinks the whole thing."

"Thank you," Arthur muttered, taking the cup.

Normally the king would be rather wary of an unknown sorcerer handing him a foreign cure to give to his warlock but Arthur felt Grettir could be trusted. All those years ago he'd helped him even when Arthur did not condone the use of magic. He was a kind soul and an ally, Arthur was sure.

Adaline had settled herself on the side of the bed, holding Merlin's hand in both of hers, her remarkable green eyes filled with worry. "He's so cold," she fearfully stated.

"Magic has simply overexerted himself," Grettir assured her.

"Why does that not surprise me," Arthur muttered as he sat on the other side of the bed and started shaking Merlin's shoulder. "Wake up, you idiot. You need to drink this."

Merlin's eyelids flickered before he weakly responded, "Pr-at."

Arthur would have smiled but he was too worried to be relieved. Merlin was still way too cold, his lips now holding a slight bluish tint. The king rested the cup against Merlin's lips and coaxed him to swallow.

"Shut up and drink," he commanded, tilting the cup. "And you better drink all of it, Merlin, or else."

The warlock reflexively swallowed, draining the contents as he was bid. His whole body shivered before his lids fluttered closed, his head falling back onto his pillow as sleep claimed him.

"Will he be alright?" asked Adaline before Arthur could.

Grettir nodded. "He just needs to sleep. The potion will do its work and he should have a sufficient amount of strength in a few hours. Come, let's gather your friends and have some stew while we wait. I've been expecting you."

Arthur didn't want to leave Merlin's side – nor Adaline, if her worried gaze was anything to go by – but the king realized it would be rude not to take Grettir's offer; besides, according to him Merlin was going to be sleeping the next few hours anyway.

He caught Adaline's eye and nodded towards the door. "Shall we?"

The half-elf looked down at Merlin, her lips pulled into a concerned frown. "I don't want to leave him just yet."

Arthur nodded understandingly. "Alright. I'll come back in a while to check on you."

She smiled appreciatively before returning her attentions to Merlin, her fingers pushing back the warlock's hair from his forehead. Arthur felt a small spike of jealousy as he thought about his sweet Guinevere lying on her deathbed back in Camelot without a husband to tend to her. He knew he wouldn't have trusted this mission to anyone else but being away from her when he knew she was dying made his stomach coil in anxious knots.

He prayed that Merlin would get better soon because they couldn't continue their journey with him out of commission. _Why had the idiot tried that spell in the first place?_ Arthur angrily thought. Now they would lose the day that they'd gained because Merlin had to recover! If this situation had occurred before he'd learned of Merlin's magic, he probably would have left the warlock in Grettir and Adaline's care and continued on into the Perilous Lands with his knights to complete the quest himself. But even though he was impatient and upset that their mission had been hindered again, he wasn't about to leave his warlock behind. He'd be a fool to believe he'd be able to complete it without him. And so Arthur forced his frustrations aside and consigned himself to wait.

Following Grettir outside, he found the knights halfway done setting camp. Gwaine was the first to spot them. Dropping the pile of firewood he'd collected, the roguish knight approached with haste.

"How's Merlin?"

"Magic will make a full recovery, Strength," Grettir answered before Arthur could. "He just needs to rest."

"You called me that before," Gwaine muttered, "right before you turned my sword into a giant flower."

"I wouldn't have if you hadn't threatened me with it," Grettir said with a grin before turning to the other knights. "There is no need to set up camp. There's plenty of room inside."

And without waiting to see if they would follow, the small sorcerer turned around and walked back into his hut.

Tristan raised a skeptical brow as he eyed the door. "Surely he's jesting."

"You forget he has magic, Tristan," Arthur reminded.

Mordred and Balthazar shared a smile. The latter clapped Tristan on the shoulder before walking towards the house. "Appearances can be deceiving, my friend," he grinned.

Gwaine caught Tristan's eye before shrugging and following the two inside.

Leon and Bedivere looked to Arthur who nodded reassuringly. "Come on," he invited.

Abandoning their place around the half assembled fire pit, Elyan, Percival, and Kay followed the two senior knights and king into the house. Tristan and Isolde were the last to enter, the latter encouraging her lover with a smile before they stepped through the doorway.

Arthur, now settled near the fire in a rather comfortable armchair, accepted a bowl of hot soup from Grettir before glancing at his knights in amusement. Besides Balthazar and Mordred all of them were staring around the large inner space with awe, their eyes wide with wonder.

"I love magic," Gwaine sighed as he sipped from his soup.

"I never would have thought such a thing would be possible," Kay admitted. "The house looks no larger than a regular villager's home."

"Magic is fairly misunderstood by your kind, sir knight," Grettir said as he gave him a bowl. "It serves many purposes. Manipulating appearances is one of its many advantages. Normally my home is much smaller than this but I knew of your coming and therefore prepared accordingly."

"I'm sorry but who are you really?" Bedivere asked. "And how did you know we'd be stopping by?"

"The name is Grettir and I'm the Keeper of the Bridge. I was charged by the Fisher King himself to watch the entrance of his kingdom. In order for someone to cross into his borders, they must be approved of by me."

"Can't someone just cross into the Perilous Lands without coming this way?" asked Leon. "It seems kind of strange to think there is only one way in."

Grettir smiled. "What you must keep in mind is that the Fisher King's lands are protected by magic. If one draws too close to the border from a different direction, a deflecting spell causes their mind to believe they have to travel a different route – a route which leads them here."

"Surely sorcerers would be able to detect that boundary and cross it without making such a journey," said Kay.

Balthazar and Mordred shook their heads immediately.

"The Fisher King was once one of the most powerful sorcerers in the land," Balthazar replied. "His power was almost as strong as Cornelius Sigan's. The only person who can probably break the deflecting spell in this day and age is Merlin."

"But he won't ever do such a thing," Mordred said.

"Why not?" asked Percival.

"Emrys understands that the magical barrier surrounding the Fisher King's land is not only for keeping unwanted people out but also protecting the land itself," Grettir answered. "The land thrives with magic and magical creatures. As he is basically magic itself, Emrys will never raise his hand to break the spell protecting it."

"I can respect that," Arthur admitted.

"But where magic thrives, life thrives," said Tristan. "All the stories I've heard of the Perilous Lands state that the land is cursed and dead."

Grettir looked towards the door where Merlin lay within and smiled, his countenance softening. "That was before Magic freed the Fisher King from his chains. Things are different now. You will soon discover what I mean for yourselves but first Emrys must recover."

"Speaking of, what exactly happened to Merlin?" asked Elyan. "Balthazar and Mordred believed he used up too much energy."

"And they would be correct, in a sense," Grettir said inclining his head to them both. "Sorcerers draw magic from the earth while warlocks draw it from themselves. Summoning magic from the earth is tiring and therefore sorcerers are unable to use and sustain spells for long periods of time. Warlocks are stronger and can therefore use their magic longer but they too will eventually tire.

"Emrys, however, is more than just an ordinary warlock. He is Magic itself. Unlike other sorcerers and warlocks, Emrys's store of magical energy is endless, eternal. His body, however, has limits just like every man. Just as a skilled warrior will tire with physical exertion, the more magic Emrys uses the more his body tires."

"Something given, something taken," Mordred muttered, nodding. "Merlin's use of magic takes away his physical energy."

"And the more he uses, the more he weakens," Bedivere sighed.

"No wonder he collapsed," Gwaine said, frowning. "He probably used more magic today than he's used to."

"Splitting the earth and opening a traveling gate on the same day…" Balthazar muttered, "A regular warlock would be out of commission for weeks after such feats."

Mordred nodded in agreement, his brow furrowed in thought. "We also can't forget the incredible healing magic he used yesterday on you, Arthur. Healing spells alone take a significant amount of energy and concentration."

"So Merlin basically overexerted himself like the self-sacrificing idiot that he is," Arthur concluded, scowling.

Grettir sighed, setting his bowl of finished stew aside. "Magic is not used to being free, Courage. Now that you have made it possible for him to be so, he has become a little reckless. His loyalties to you will cause him to act irrationally. It would be wise to restrain him from performing remarkable spells without pacing himself. He will become of little use to you in times of need if he does not grasp this concept."

"You're almost making it sound like we have to break Merlin like a man would break a horse," Gwaine said with a heavy frown.

"Horse or man, a spirit that is wild will eventually bring more harm to itself than good," Grettir answered before draining the contents of his mug.

Arthur saw the wisdom in these words but found himself frowning just as heavily as Gwaine. "The last thing I will ever do is break Merlin's spirit," he stated, "but that doesn't mean I'll stop trying to get the idiot to realize that he needs to pace himself. Grettir's right, Gwaine; we all know that Merlin will use every ounce of strength in his body if he felt it was needed in order to protect his friends. We need to make sure he doesn't feel the need to do everything on his own anymore. Encouraging him to involve us when magical threats present themselves and looking for solutions to our own problems before simply asking him to fix them will be a definite help in the long run."

The roguish knight finished the rest of his ale before letting out a heavy sigh. "You're right, Arthur," he agreed. "But we're all forgetting one thing."

"What?" asked Percival.

"Merlin is as stubborn as a mule. If he decides something, he carries it through no matter who tries to talk him out of it."

There was a soft round of chuckling as everyone agreed with Gwaine's statement. Arthur knew this better than anyone. Even so, he also knew that he just might be the only one who could convince Merlin to change his mind – at least, he hoped so. He didn't want to see Merlin in the state he was currently in ever again. Though he knew the warlock would make a full recovery, it brought no joy to Arthur knowing that it was because of him that he was having to recover at all. He was the one who had been poisoned. He was the one whose impatience had led Merlin to taking down the bandits and creating the doorway to the Perilous Land borders. And the idiot had gone through and done all of it because he cared about Arthur more than himself.

Shaking his head, Arthur suddenly stood and without a word made his way to Merlin's temporary room. Opening the door, he faltered when seeing Adaline hastily drawing back from Merlin's face. By the redness in her cheeks, Arthur figured he'd just caught her planting a kiss on the warlock's unconscious lips.

The king awkwardly cleared his throat. "Um, can I have a moment with him?"

"Oh, um, sure," Adaline muttered, standing up.

She hesitated a moment, glancing at Merlin worriedly one last time before inclining her head to the king and leaving the room. Arthur walked over to the now vacant chair and took a seat, staring at the face of his unconscious brother. Without thinking, he gently pushed Merlin's hair away from his forehead.

"Idiot," Arthur muttered affectionately. "Your loyalty to me is going to be the death of you someday and you know what? I'll be left behind to wallow in guilt because it'll be my fault. So… do me a favor? Stop using your magic to solve all of my problems, alright? I mean, I'm not saying that you should stop using it entirely or anything – I don't expect that – but, I also don't want you to be using spells that knock you out for the rest of the day. That's not fair to you. So get better and stop overexerting yourself, alright?"

"Worried about me, are you?"

Arthur jumped, removing his hand from Merlin's forehead as if he'd been burned. "Merlin!" he cried in surprise, seeing those familiar blue eyes filled with silent humor. The usual goofy grin slid further up the warlock's prominent cheekbones as the king began to blush. "Shut up," he growled, looking away.

Merlin's grin, if possible, grew wider. "Come on, Arthur, I thought we were passed the awkward emotional stages at this point. Or do I need to transform myself into a five year old again to root out the rest of it?"

Arthur responded by flicking Merlin's nose. Satisfied by the glare his warlock sent his way, Arthur folded his arms and leaned back in the chair. "I don't need another day of babysitting a five year old, Merlin. I had enough of that to last me a lifetime."

He was lying through his teeth, however. Truth be told, he did miss Arlin; quite a bit, actually. But he knew he would miss his Merlin more. That was why he'd made the decision long ago to never ask the warlock to reverse his age.

"Arthur? Are you okay?"

The king blinked, looking up to find his Court Sorcerer scrutinizing him carefully. "I'm fine," he lied.

Merlin frowned. "Really?" he said, disbelief coating his tone.

Arthur's eyes narrowed. "I said I'm fine, Merlin."

The king prayed that Merlin would catch on and let the matter drop. To his satisfaction and relief, Merlin did just that. Sighing, the warlock shifted a little beneath his blankets and changed the subject.

"So you want me to stop using magic?"

"You obviously lack the necessary skill of listening, Merlin. I said that I wanted you to stop using spells that will knock you off your feet – like the ones you used the past two days!"

Merlin scowled. "Arthur, I'm not going to stop protecting you."

"I know that," Arthur sighed. "I just don't think it was necessary for you to create a doorway to the Perilous Lands right after you used incredibly powerful magic to take down those bandits. I don't know how much magic is needed to open the earth but I can tell you that it would take the efforts of several men and several months to create an opening as wide and deep as the one you did. You may have limitless magic, Merlin, but you're still a man. Your stamina won't last forever."

The defensive glint in the warlock's eye lessened, replaced with a small, sad smile. "I know, Arthur. I just don't want to fail you."

"There you go again, being an idiot," Arthur sighed, shaking his head. "Stop believing that you are solely responsible for how my life turns out, Merlin. Your magic may be a huge asset but I don't want you to think I solely rely on it to solve my problems. We could have traveled through Mercia and reached the Perilous Lands without your magic's aid. We may be racing against time but I feel I need to make it clear that I don't need both you and Guinevere in mortal peril at the same time. Remember what Gaius said: just because you can now use your magic freely doesn't mean you should forget to use that finite brain of yours."

"Finite? I think you meant to say infinite," Merlin corrected.

Arthur pursed his lips and shook his head thoughtfully. "No, I don't believe I did."

He glanced down to see Merlin trying to conceal a happy grin as he retorted, "Dollophead."

Arthur's eyes danced with inner humor as he ruffled the warlock's dark hair. "Idiot." The two shared knowing looks before the king shook his head and sat back in the chair again. "You should go back to sleep. Whether you like it or not, you still look terrible."

"Thanks," Merlin griped though it was with very little energy.

Arthur stood. "I mean it, Merlin. Get some rest."

"I will if you stop telling me what to do."

"I'm the king, Merlin."

"And that's supposed to mean something?"

"Shut up, you idiot, and go back to sleep."

"Whatever you say, your royal pratness," Merlin replied, his eyes already closed.

Arthur smiled at his warlock fondly as he settled in to wait out the next couple hours. He honestly didn't feel like leaving Merlin's side and besides, someone had to be with the idiot in case something happened. The warmth in the room and the soft, occasional pop from the fireplace soon lulled the king unawares to sleep. An hour later, when Adaline came to check on them, it was to find both king and warlock acquainted with slumber. Smiling, the half-elf left them alone, knowing her love was in hands probably more capable than her own.

* * *

 **Hi everyone. I thought it best to leave this author's note until the end.**

 **Even though I don't know any of you personally, I consider you my friends so I'm going to share with you the terribly sad news that my mother's cancer returned with a vengeance and in less than a week we lost her. My mom, my best friend, passed away last Wednesday. While my heart is shattered, I'm not completely broken. I'm religious and I believe that she is now in heaven, a better place where she can rest and no longer suffer from the cancer that was hurting her so much. She was the greatest woman that I knew and I want to be just like her some day. She was always encouraging me to pursue the things I love so I will continue to write since that would make her (and myself) happy. I completed this story's rough outline before she passed so I just have to go back and edit a few things and it will see its eventual completion on this website. I ask for your patience and prayers (if you are religious) to help my family through this trial of losing the best gift God gave us in this life. I promise this story will reach its ending and that all of you will see it in time.**

 **Please leave a review telling me what you thought of this chapter. Those will definitely bring smiles to my face in this very troubled time. Thank you so much for sticking with me and for loving this story. You guys seriously are amazing!**

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 **Spell translation**

 _ **Feccan ús geond sé holts hiderryne æt sé ælfylce sylfum Mercia :**_ Take us through the forest of our country to the enemy land of Mercia


	23. Chapter 23

**Happy Mother's Day to all those women in the world who fit the title be they grandmothers, mothers, future mothers, mother figures, etc! While this day is going to be very hard for me from now on, giving you all a chapter is a great way to bring some happiness into my day.**

 **I'd like to extend a personal thank you to DarkRed101, Guest, Goddess-of-the-Moon-39, Bluelove22, TheNightFury, IndigoAndTheFandoms, Koala789, You rock, NC, Pilyarquitect, Mersan123, Madnessdownunder2, and Peaceful Defender for writing a review for the last chapter and consoling me over my mother's passing. I know many others who didn't comment or review have shared prayers and kind thoughts to me in other ways so thank you as well. You guys are incredible.**

 **To the Guest who reviewed (sorry I don't know your name) yes, the Forgotten City looks similar to the Hallelujah Mountains in Avatar. :) Now you all have something to kind of compare it to in your minds. This may shock some of you but we're really close to the end of this story. A couple more chapters to go and I think we'll reach the end. Hope you all enjoy the beginning of the conclusion! Thanks again for all your support!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin**

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23: The Perilous Lands

"Are you sure these are the Perilous Lands?" Gwaine asked for the tenth time.

Arthur rolled his eyes. He was becoming rather impatient with the rogue knight. "Gwaine, why must you ask the same question that you've been asking for the last two hours?!"

"I dunno, maybe because this place doesn't look a thing like the one we wandered through before!" he retorted, gesturing around to the green countryside rolling before them as far as the eye could see.

Arthur had to admit, it was still hard for him to accept this luscious farmland as the desert he'd nearly died in the last time he was here. The group was traveling down a dirt path lined with wildflowers that stretched for hundreds of miles. In the distance was a glittering lake near the castle that once housed the Fisher King himself, the vast field having replaced the terrifying swamp he'd nearly drowned in.

"I still can't believe that once we crossed the bridge the area changed from being such a terrible desert to this," Isolde commented as she eyed the flowers with a warm smile.

Merlin glanced over his shoulder at her, a large grin on his face. "Like I said before, magic protects this place, Isolde. If the surrounding kingdoms knew just how fertile this land had become, there would be a bloodbath as everyone fought to claim it for themselves."

"While I see your point, wouldn't it be a waste not to try to cultivate it?" asked Tristan. "I can think of many people who would benefit from a good harvest and this ground is perfect for farming."

"If anyone has a right to this land, it's those with magic," said Mordred. "The very air stirs with it."

"I don't think it would be beneficial for those with magic to segregate themselves further than they already have," Arthur voiced. "We're trying to build a world where all are equal, Mordred. If this land ever were to become occupied with people, then it should be filled with both sorcerers and regular men."

"The fate of this land has not yet come to pass," Adaline cryptically stated to Merlin's right. "One day, when Albion is ripe, it will thrive with the life of men. Until then it is a home for those of us who do not yet fit in such a world."

Arthur glanced over at her, wondering if she spoke to some degree of her mother's people. From the limited knowledge he knew, elves never wandered from their enchanted dwelling place in the woods. Would they one day walk among men again? Could the kingdom he was destined to build bring them out of those confined places or would they remain hidden? Arthur wasn't sure. He had a feeling, however, that even if he did eventually fulfill his destiny that they wouldn't be part of it. Some people liked to be left to themselves after all.

"We're nearly there," Percival commented, distracting Arthur from his thoughts.

As it became apparent that the natural light was soon to disappear behind the horizon, Arthur had made the decision for the group to make camp in the Fisher King's old castle. Gwaine had voiced his concern about the wyverns but Merlin had assured them that the beasts wouldn't be a problem.

"I'm going to ride out to calm them down," Merlin said to the king.

"Be careful, Merlin," Arthur ordered, remembering how dangerous the draconic monsters could be.

The warlock smiled. "When am I not?"

Before Arthur could answer, Merlin urged his steed into a full out run, leaving the gathering of knights and charging head-on towards a castle infested with magical creatures that could easily rip him and his horse to shreds.

"Don't you think this counts as overexerting himself?" asked Kay worriedly as the group watched the first wyverns begin to chase after Merlin once he reached the lowest part of the valley.

"No," Mordred smiled. "I may not be a dragon lord but I've been taught enough by the druids to know that their ability to speak with their kin takes as much effort as it does for us to communicate with each other."

"So very little at all then," muttered Gwaine as he watched Merlin's small form disappear behind the castle walls, the wyverns following close behind.

Even in the distance Arthur could hear the screeching from within the castle. He unconsciously tightened his hold on the reins. A minute later, he relaxed when Merlin appeared in the doorway, waving enthusiastically for them to join him in the castle. Arthur shared a glance with Gwaine before nudging Acker in the sides. The horse took on a swift gallop, the others taking a similar pace behind, and within moments they reached the stone entrance Merlin was leaning against. Arthur brought Acker to a halt before leaping from his saddle and guiding him over to where Merlin stood.

"Everything alright?"

Merlin turned his gaze away from the inner courtyard to his king. "It should be. The horses will be fine in the stables. I've commanded the wyverns to stay here until further notice."

Arthur looked inside and his eyes widened. What looked to be a wyvern army was gathered in the large open space. Some were resting on ledges, others on stone statues, each set of red eyes fixated on Merlin with a stare that reminded Arthur of his hounds whenever they were begging for meat.

Gwaine swore somewhere behind him. "That's a lot of pheasants," he muttered, seeing the wyverns for himself.

Merlin laughed. "Come on, I'll show you where the stables are."

The knights would all be lying if they weren't the slightest bit concerned that magical monsters were watching their every move as they followed Merlin across the open space to where the stables stood. Acker wasn't too thrilled about the wyverns either, his head moving up and down and the occasional snort escaping his nose. The other horses were reacting similarly.

"Merlin, are you sure it's safe to keep the wyverns in the same place as the horses?" asked Bedivere with a worried glance over his shoulder.

"Don't worry," Merlin assured as he took the reins guiding Acker away from Arthur, "I've enchanted the stables so the horses won't see the wyverns and the wyverns won't be able to get inside – not that they could anyway since I've ordered them not to."

"And they're just going to follow your word?" challenged Tristan with a skeptical brow.

"Dragons and any of their kin cannot disobey a direct order given them by a dragon lord," Merlin stated with absolute conviction. "They'll stay where I've told them to, I can promise you that."

Arthur nodded to him before turning to the others. "We'll be safe here for the night. Let's go into the castle and find a place to settle down. We'll be rising with the sun and we need all the energy we can get."

[][][]

Judging by the multiple scrapings of swords leaving their resting places on the stone floor, Arthur wasn't the only one to waken from a terrified gasp the next morning. Rolling to his feet with the grace of a warrior and the speed of a viper, Arthur's hand held his sword aloft as his eyes scrutinized the throne room. The source of the noise was easily identified as Merlin, the warlock panting heavily with his eyes closed, his hands curled through his hair in tight fists. Adaline was kneeling beside him, her hand rubbing his back while worry coursed through her green eyes.

"What's going on?" Tristan demanded, striding over to where the warlock sat with barely concealed concern.

"I don't know," Percival answered, having been the one on watch duty. "Everything was fine and then Merlin leapt up from his bed roll and gasped like the devil himself was trying to strangle him in his sleep."

Arthur sheathed his sword and approached Merlin quickly, glancing at Adaline, his own worry matching hers. "Merlin?"

"Arthur!" Merlin gasped, his eyes opening, a hint of gold glistening for the barest of moments as his terrified gaze sought that of the frightened king. "Arthur, it's Gwen."

The entire room stilled as did Arthur's heart. Judging by the look of fear on Merlin's face, whatever news he was about to disclose wasn't good. Throat thickening with barely concealed anxiety, Arthur grabbed both of Merlin's shoulders and harshly demanded, "What is it? What's wrong with her?"

Merlin winced from the king's intense grip before shaking his head. "She's alive but she's not doing well."

"How do you know? Did you see something?"

"Yes," Merlin nodded, his gaze faraway, his frown causing thick lines to appear on his forehead. "I don't usually have visions – that's Morgana's forte – but I think the Old Religion gave me this one. This is going to sound strange, Arthur, but I feel like it was trying to communicate with you through me. It's trying to answer your warning."

Arthur's brow furrowed just as much as Merlin's. "And what was it trying to say?"

"Gwen is meant to live but only if we act swiftly," Merlin muttered, rubbing his temples like one would when sporting a headache. "The images of my dream were similar to the visions I saw in the Crystal of Neahtid years ago – that's how I know it was a vision and not a troubled dream. I saw Gwen lying in Gaius's chambers. Arthur, she wasn't breathing. The druids were scrambling around her in a panic and I heard Iseldir cry out that her heart had stopped. The blade she was stabbed with, Morgana enhanced the potency of the Questing Beast's venom with dark magic. Gwen has less time than we first thought."

Arthur processed this information before reluctantly asking the inevitable question, "How long, Merlin? How long does she have?"

Merlin looked away, sorrowing. "What I saw… the impression that came with it was clear. Arthur, Gwen will die _tonight_ if not administered the phoenix tears."

Arthur lost all feeling in his arms, the limbs dropping loosely to his sides. _"Tonight?"_ he repeated hoarsely, staring at Merlin in utter horror.

"But… there's no way we can retrieve the phoenix and return to Camelot in that length of time," Bedivere whispered, he being the only one brave enough to voice the reality of the situation.

Arthur felt like he was withdrawing into himself. Tonight; in less than twenty four hours, the love of his life would be gone…

The spiraling numbness was suddenly replaced with an inner fire of anger and frustration. What in the name of all that was sacred and holy was the Old Religion thinking?! He'd more or less sworn an oath that he would not be the king it declared him to be if it took Guinevere away from him. So why would it allow such a thing to happen?

"There has to be something we can do," Elyan began.

"There _isn't!"_ Arthur snapped, his hopelessness manifesting itself through his anger. "It's physically impossible to cover that many leagues in less than a day, let alone find a phoenix in the process!"

"Then… are you saying we _failed?"_ asked Kay.

"No."

Arthur turned around to find Merlin staring at him with an intensity that had conquered a plethora of his previous doubts. The burning conviction in the warlock's blue eyes sparked the same reaction within the distraught king that it always had, working its way into his soul and beating against the sea of hopelessness threatening to swallow Arthur whole. Arthur gravitated towards that conviction, reaching for it with a look of utter desperation.

"We haven't failed, Arthur," Merlin stated. "Gwen is still alive. The Old Religion didn't send me an image of her death. It sent a vision – _a warning_ – of something that has yet to take place. We have been given a window of opportunity and we would be fools to forsake it."

"But Merlin, it's impossible," Gwaine began.

The warlock shook his head. "No, Gwaine, it's not. The vision showed what would happen to Gwen tonight if we didn't send additional help."

"But there's no way we can get the phoenix and reach her in the time we've been given, Merlin," Arthur angrily snapped. "I don't think even _you_ could change that."

"You're right," Merlin agreed, confusing the king, "I don't have the power – but Kilgharrah does."

Arthur's eyes widened as he suddenly remembered the dragon's offer.

"He could give us another day, Arthur," Merlin reassured, seeing that the king had caught his meaning.

"Sire, Merlin," Leon began delicately, "Forgive me but an extra few hours still wouldn't be enough."

Arthur's heart plummeted. "He's right. While Kilgharrah could connect Guinevere's life force with his own he said so himself that her body wouldn't be able to take the magical strain for more than a day. That still doesn't give us enough time, Merlin."

The warlock's determination didn't falter. "It does if we ditch the horses and take the wyverns to reach the Forgotten City."

There was a collective gasp as the knights eyes widened in disbelief; in some, terror mingled as well.

"Merlin, wyverns are highly dangerous magical creatures," Balthazar protested. "They are not meant to be tamed like a horse."

"I can control them," Merlin stated with absolute conviction. "Remember, they can't disobey the command of a dragon lord."

"Merlin," Gwaine hesitated, "I'm all for going against impossible odds but this…"

"It's _crazy_ that's what it is!" Bedivere voiced.

Adaline stood and faced the knights with a look of disbelief on her elvish face. "Even as a child from another land I have heard stories of the valor of the Knights of Camelot. Theirs are the tales of legends, of men who fight with the strength of the dragons themselves – but all I presently hear are the excuses of uncertainty and cowardice. Do you not trust Merlin and his abilities? Your queen's life hangs in the balance and you would do well to remove such doubts from your minds and take up the mantle of the titles you claim to carry! I, for one, will not give up on hope. I'll be in the courtyard. Come when you've found the courage you seem to have lost."

Bending down, she surprised them all by kissing Merlin full on the lips before grabbing her bow and leaving the room. Arthur and the others stared after her with dropped jaws of disbelief.

Gwaine was the first to come out of his stupor. "Now _that's_ a woman!" he muttered in awe. "Merlin, mate, I envy you."

The warlock blushed before rising to his feet. "Adaline does have a point," he said, finding the gaze of his still-surprised king. "I don't feel I need to chasten you further but I will remind you that time is short. I'll contact Kilgharrah, Arthur. He should be able to keep Gwen alive until we get back."

Merlin almost fully made it to the door when Arthur called out, "Merlin!" The warlock paused. "Can wyverns really travel faster than horses?"

Merlin grinned. "I imagine so, Arthur, seeing that the only reason why the ones yesterday didn't succeed in catching me was because I ordered them not to. Not to mention, horses have to face the natural obstacles of the earth while creatures of the air have nothing but the wind to hinder them."

Without further word, the warlock left the room, leaving Arthur to glance around at his knights. He was grateful to see they were just as nervous about this idea as he was. Traveling through the air on a magical creature that had the ability to rip him in half with one snap of its jaws did not sit well with Arthur one bit. But what Adaline had said had truly wounded his pride.

"Our valor has been questioned," he muttered, scowling as his eyes met those of Sirs Leon, Bedivere, and Kay, the oldest of his knights.

The latter's face twisted into a grim smile. "Should we remedy the grave misunderstanding?"

"Only if we ever want to show our faces in Camelot again," Gwaine muttered, sheathing his sword and making for the door. He glanced over his shoulder at the others and grinned, "Well? What are you all waiting for? A warlock will prove his courage where the knights of Camelot dare not?"

Arthur's eyes narrowed and he instantly snapped, "When Hell freezes over!"

Striding across the room and burying any misgivings of his idiot's plan, Arthur sent Gwaine a glare before pushing past him and tromping down the stairs, ignoring the moron's knowing grin. The others were heard following dutifully behind him and when Arthur emerged into the courtyard a few minutes later it was to find Adaline already familiar with a particular wyvern that was nuzzling it's snout into her outstretched hands. Merlin was rubbing the crown of a rather large wyvern that had its eyes partly closed. The king was once again reminded of his hounds when he would scratch them behind their ears.

Noticing the others, Merlin smiled encouragingly and waved them over. Arthur approached despite the fear he felt growing in his stomach. He had a natural desire to reach for his sword. Could he truly be blamed for his wariness though? All his life he'd been taught to fight creatures of magic - not befriend and ride them like the common horse! He'd personally found Adaline's accusation unfair. She hadn't been raised to believe that everything to do with magic was a threat which needed to be eradicated from the face of the earth. Leon, Bedivere, and Kay at least had been taught similar principles. And while the others came from different backgrounds, each of them had common enough sense to know that a wyvern shouldn't be treated like a domesticated pet. The only reason these creatures hadn't already eaten them alive was because of Merlin's special powers as a dragon lord.

Drawing near to the warlock, Arthur balled his twitching fingers into fists, ignoring the desire to grab his sword hilt and skewer the wyvern three feet in front of him.

"Don't be nervous, Arthur," Merlin quietly instructed. "He'll be able to sense it. You need to show him that you're not to be crossed."

"Whoever said I was nervous, Merlin?" he snipped, his anxiety getting the better of him.

The corners of the warlock's mouth twitched and his eyes sparkled but he wisely chose not to comment. Practically growling at the man who nearly drove him mad on a daily basis, Arthur closed the remaining distance between him and the wyvern and boldly rested a hand against the beast's crown. It was surprisingly cool to the touch, the wyvern's head smooth and scaly. Long ago, when he was still a lad, Arthur had caught a snake in the royal gardens. It had promptly bit his finger which left a very teary prince in the care of Gaius but the silky feeling of the snake's skin had still fascinated him. The wyvern felt the same as the serpent.

"I think he likes you," Merlin commented.

Arthur glanced at the warlock before experimentally moving his hand under the wyvern's chin, scratching the surface softly. "So it would seem," he muttered as the beast closed its red eyes in pleasure.

It was indeed bizarre; petting a creature he'd once thought would be the death of him when he was here last. While his hand steadily scratched the pleased wyvern, Arthur's eyes roamed over the rest of its charcoal colored body. It was about the size of a horse with long thin spikes running from its neck all the way to its tail. Two leathery wings were folded against its body, the ends poking up with even more spikes. Four feet sported three menacing black claws with a fourth sticking out the back, no doubt to catch prey in a relentless grip. Even if it wasn't currently attacking him, Arthur felt somewhat threatened – especially when his eyes caught sight of the razor sharp teeth lining the creature's long snout.

"Merlin," he muttered uncertainly, "how on earth are we supposed to ride these things when they have those spikes running down their spine?"

Merlin responded by picking up a saddle and strapping it unceremoniously onto the wyvern's back. The creature let out a small growl of discomfort and Arthur immediately retracted his hand. Someone snickered behind him and Arthur turned a menacing glare on Gwaine whose grin was instantly covered up with a fist and a ridiculous cough. Arthur's eyes narrowed. So what if he was cautious? He'd like to see who would be laughing once the wyvern ripped his hand off because Merlin had idiotically thrown a saddle on its back unawares! Stupid Gwaine.

He turned back to watch Merlin whisper gentle words to the wyvern as he tied a makeshift leather bridal over the creature's snout. There was an indignant snort and the wyvern stomped its feet, its tail flickering angrily back and forth. Even though it was clearly irked, it didn't move.

"I've got a really bad feeling about this," Bedivere mumbled to Kay.

"I'm sure Merlin's got it sorted," said Leon though his tone betrayed his doubts.

"There, all done!" Merlin declared, patting the wyvern's now bridled head. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

The wyvern glared up at him accusingly. For some reason Arthur felt the beast was humiliated for being subjected to such domesticated ways. It held the same frustrated scowl Arthur would envision on someone being forced to do something they really didn't want to do. Funny, since Merlin made him feel this way on a frequent basis when he made him focus on his duties as king at times when he wanted to relax.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" he asked skeptically as he took the reins Merlin held out to him.

The warlock smirked. "Now's not the time to act like a girl's petticoat, Arthur. Just get on the wyvern."

The king smacked Merlin upside the head for the comment before eyeing the saddle. "Wait a minute, is that my horse's saddle?"

"Yep."

"What have you done to it?" Arthur demanded, rounding on the warlock.

"Arthur, wyverns don't have the same structure as a horse," Merlin explained in slight exasperation. "I had to alter it a bit. Don't worry; I can change it back once we're done here."

"You'd better," Arthur warned. "This saddle was a gift from Annis. She'd have my head if I disfigured the leatherwork. It's one of the crafts her people specialize in after all."

"Relax, you prat; I'll make sure Annis doesn't rip your head off. Now, get on the wyvern so I can move on to the next one. We don't have a lot of time, remember?"

Scowling and making sure Merlin saw how upset he was about being told what to do, Arthur took a deep breath and eyed the saddle resting in front of the wyvern's wings. Swallowing slightly, he placed one foot in the stirrup before swinging his body up over the beast, settling onto the saddle that was now smaller but still surprisingly comfortable. The biggest difference Arthur immediately noticed was that his legs weren't as far spread as they would be on a horse. The second was he wasn't as far off the ground as he was used to. Testing out the reins, he gently pulled a little more on the left. The wyvern's soft growl rippled its throat but the beast moved its head and shifted its body towards the direction Arthur had indicated.

"It's like a horse," he muttered, staring up at Merlin who was grinning widely.

"Sort of," Merlin corrected. "I've commanded it to respond to your directions. I may or may not have also enlightened its mind to understand commands you would normally give to a charger."

Arthur hummed a moment before realizing something. "One problem, Merlin; horses can't fly. How am I supposed to direct this thing once it's off the ground?"

Merlin's smile grew even larger than before. "I think you'll be smart enough to figure that out once that happens."

He then strode to the next wyvern, leaving Arthur astride the monster now shifting restlessly beneath him. "Merlin! Get back here!" he shouted angrily, trying to mask his fear as he glared at the warlock's head. Merlin ignored him. "Stupid, bloody warlock," he grumbled. The wyvern seemed to agree, growling in Merlin's direction.

Ten minutes later, everyone was secured on a wyvern though the only one who looked remotely comfortable was Merlin. Arthur had had some time to direct his wyvern around on the ground, the creature surprising him by following his orders to walk forward, turn this way and that, and come to a stop – though it did so while growling the whole way. The king found himself silently wishing for his horse when Merlin called for everyone's attention.

"Alright, so simple rules of flight: don't let go of your reins, don't fall off, and try not to urge your wyvern to go faster than the pace I'm going to set. I've commanded them to follow my lead but if you happen to pass me, your wyvern might do some uncomfortable maneuvers to get back in formation."

"Right, Gwaine, don't do anything stupid," Arthur commanded.

"Hey!" the roguish knight complained while the others chuckled somewhat nervously.

Merlin caught Arthur's eye before he grinned. "Are you ready?"

Arthur's heart leapt into his throat. They were about to do something that no man had done before: fly a magical beast as if it were a normal steed. This whole plan suddenly seemed incredibly stupid. Arthur thought of several possible deaths he could encounter from this harebrained scheme before sighing in defeat. This was the fastest way to get to the Forgotten City. They didn't have time to find another option. So the king swallowed his fears of the unknown, looked his Court Sorcerer in the eye, and nodded.

Merlin let out a guttural command and Arthur's heartbeat quickened tenfold as the wings of his magical steed lifted behind him and the beast crouched down, preparing to spring. There was a rush of wind as the wyvern started to run, its wings flapping a few times before it leapt into the air. Arthur's stomach dropped and the king had to stop from crying out as the wyvern followed Merlin's command, rising towards the sky. Arthur heard Kay swear loudly behind him and he dared look back to see if the knight had fallen off. What he found was a sight that was both alarming and exhilarating. The knights were all accounted for, their knuckles white as they held onto the reins of their wyverns for dear life. Leon and Kay both looked a little green, Gwaine sported his usual cheery grin, and the others held looks of barely concealed fright. While he was happy to see that they were alright, Arthur was shocked by how beautiful the landscape was below him, fields of green stretching for miles around the Fisher King's dark castle.

"Alright there, sire?"

Arthur twisted around to find Merlin flying next to him, a huge grin on his face. While the others looked somewhat apprehensive – besides Gwaine – Merlin appeared to be in his element. His ebony locks whipped around in the wind, his eyes were lit with happiness, and his grin was larger than Arthur had ever seen. The usual tension in his shoulders also seemed to be gone, his form laidback, and his hands on the reins of his steed slack; the perfect picture of ease and relaxation. Arthur was struck by how natural it was, seeing Merlin in such a way. He found himself grinning.

"Fine, Merlin, but I can't speak for the others," he answered.

Merlin glanced back and frowned a little before smiling apologetically and shouting, "Don't worry, Leon, Kay, we'll make it to the Forgotten City in no time."

In fear of throwing up, no doubt, both knights merely nodded before closing their eyes, holding tightly to the reins and trusting that Merlin would direct their wyverns as he promised. Arthur felt somewhat sorry for them. While they experienced sickness, he was feeling _invigorated!_ Sure, it was terrifying if one actually thought about what would happen if they were to fall from such a height, but Arthur wasn't worried; Merlin would make sure they were safe. Besides, heights had never particularly bothered the king before.

When he was a boy he'd made it a goal to climb all the trees in the royal gardens, the highest being a beech tree of about fifteen feet. Then there was walking along the outer walls of the castle; he'd walked along the edges a few times as a teenager much to his father's chagrin. After getting caught the tenth time, Uther had threatened to lock him in his room for a month and Arthur had nearly challenged him to do it until Gaius had a private word and calmed his irrational thoughts. Uther had only been worried about his safety even though at the time Arthur was convinced he was trying to restrict his freedom. Oh the follies and ignorance of youth. For a brief moment Arthur entertained himself as to what his father would say if he could see him now, riding a magical beast. He'd probably exclaim sorcery and begin purging the countryside for the one responsible for his son's erratic behavior. Arthur chuckled through his nose before allowing his mind to wander elsewhere, the countryside flying beneath him as his wyvern followed Merlin's lead.

The sky was a beautiful blue, the rays of the warm sun hidden partially behind clouds of fluffy white. As the wind whipped his hair and ruffled his cape, Arthur felt a sense of contentment, the recurring beat of his wyvern's wings and the movement of its body becoming a steady, soothing rhythm as the world passed below them in varying shades of green and brown. Every once in a while the group would fly over a glitter of water and Arthur would glimpse some type of creature quenching its thirst. He thought he saw a griffon at one point and, it could have been a reflection of the sun, but he might have glimpsed a herd of unicorn on a hillside too.

"We're crossing over the Elven Woods!" Adaline shouted a while later, her voice barely heard over the roar of wind in Arthur's ears.

The king glanced down and noticed the thick treetops they indeed were passing, small patches of earth visible for a moment before being lost to his view. It was hard to believe a community of elves resided somewhere down there, a whole group of magical creatures he had only heard of in legend and myth. Perhaps, in different circumstances, he and Merlin would return to the Perilous Lands and meet them? Merlin would definitely like that.

Ten minutes later Arthur looked ahead slightly to his right and noticed Merlin's eyes fixated not on the forest below but the way ahead. The king followed his gaze and his jaw dropped. Looming before them was a sight Arthur never thought he'd ever see.

The castle walls were an alabaster white, mixing with the clouds that seemed to leak through several windows and open doors, visible only due to the thick vines snaking their way in and out of various cracks before growing as thick as trees as they fell down to the earth. The castle that was indeed floating in the air was not whole but broken into several large chunks, a stray wing here, a courtyard there. Most of it was covered in cloud but judging by the length the clouds were covering, Arthur guessed that the broken citadel itself was about the size of Queen Annis's castle.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted over the wind, "Is there going to be somewhere to land in there?"

The warlock nodded and shouted back, "I can see a spot!"

Arthur frowned, the logical side of him questioning if this was a good idea. The king knew how time could weather away even the strongest of buildings. Camelot had originally been well-built but years of battle and hard weather had made it so it needed to be fortified quite often in order to remain strong. This city was known as the Forgotten City. Who was keeping it fortified? Who was to say whether or not they would dismount their wyverns only to fall to their deaths because the ground gave out underneath them?

"I wonder if he's thought of that possibility," Arthur muttered under his breath, worried.

In the end, he decided to trust that Merlin knew what he was doing. Clearly a city floating hundreds of feet in the air was held up by magic and if there was one thing Arthur had learned over the years – especially most recently – it was never to discount what magic could do.

Arthur was pulled from his thoughts when his wyvern followed Merlin into the thick clouds gathered around the city. The king gasped in surprise as he was suddenly drenched like he'd been traveling through the middle of a rainstorm. His golden hair stuck to his head and he felt like he was breathing water. From the astounded cursings of his knights somewhere behind him, Arthur figured they'd just experienced the same as him. His wyvern growled before tipping forward unexpectedly. Arthur hunched over, redoubling his grip on the reins. A huge stone edifice suddenly appeared and the king cried out in alarm but his steed merely swooped around it with some very creative aerial maneuvers. They glided by the stone structure, passing several vine invested windows and an occasional balcony before the wall disappeared and Arthur had a full view of the inner design of the Forgotten City.

His eyes widened and he felt an appreciation for whoever was the architect of such majesty. Camelot may have no equal but this place was rather impressive despite its broken appearance. The chunks of castle were tied together by thick vines, the plant life acting as bridges to keep the large stones connected in some way. Two particular collections of the once whole city looked like they would make a full courtyard if put back together. Merlin was currently heading for the western half; the larger of the two. There were crumbling stone steps that lead to inner rooms with this one, unlike its eastern companion that had weathered away to just the courtyard and a broken wall covered in vines.

As the courtyard drew near, Arthur braced himself for a rough impact – which is why he was very surprised when the exact opposite occurred. His wyvern circled around in a wide spiral before gently landing on the ground, walking a little ways as heavy breaths caused its nostrils to flare. Arthur felt sorry for it. It was clearly exhausted; it sounded like how his horse normally did after a particularly hard run. Feeling the need to relieve it of its burden, Arthur glanced down at the cobbled stone and took a deep breath before slipping from his saddle. He was almost expecting the ground to move beneath him but it held firm. If it wasn't for the clouds and the coolness of the air, the king would have been fooled into thinking they were on the ground.

Merlin wandered over to him and grinned. "Isn't it amazing, Arthur?" he asked breathlessly.

The king looked around at the ethereal beauty and nodded. "I never would have thought such a thing was possible," he muttered as the knights landed and slipped from their beasts.

Having dismounted successfully, Gwaine wandered over to them with a huge grin on his face. "Magic is never going to cease to surprise me," he commented while flipping a wet lock of hair from the side of his face.

As the other knights drew closer, Leon glanced over his shoulder before asking, "Should we tether the wyverns?"

Merlin answered this by shouting out a guttural command. The wyverns growled and their eyes flashed in annoyance but they settled down on the ground to wait. "That should do it," the warlock grinned.

Arthur shared an amused glance with Bedivere before clearing his throat. "Right, we don't have a lot of time. Merlin, do you know what this firebird is supposed to look like?"

"Sure, it looks like a bird that's on fire," he answered.

Arthur stared. " _Really?_ I never would have guessed!" he snapped sarcastically. "Honestly, Merlin, I thought you were supposed to be intelligent!"

"Well you obviously have no clue what it looks like either!" Merlin defended. "I've only seen an illustrated picture in one of Gaius's old books!"

"Well, a lot of help that gives us!"

"Is it supposed to be larger than a falcon?" Gwaine interrupted.

Merlin turned to him, frowning. "I think so, why?"

"Looks like it's on fire?" the knight persisted.

"We've already established that, Gwaine!" Arthur snapped.

"Like that?" Gwaine said, pointing to the north.

Everyone spun around. Flying towards them was a creature unlike any Arthur had ever seen. Many years ago, a man had come to Camelot who specialized in falconry. The then prince had been fascinated with the various birds the man had trained but none of those compared to the majesty he was currently beholding. It was similar to an eagle with a wingspan of at least eight feet, its plumage seemingly wreathed in flame, with yellow eyes comparable to the noon-day sun. Its golden talons ended in sharp red claws with a tail streaming about two feet behind its magnificent fiery body. A sharp cry pierced the air as the bird opened its beak but instead of sensing that the creature felt threatened, Arthur actually felt a wave of calm wash over him.

"It's _beautiful,_ " Isolde whispered as they watched the phoenix fly in a wide arch around them.

The bird landed a second later on a rock not ten feet from where Arthur and Merlin stood, folding its remarkable wings comfortably against its body and staring at them with unblinking yellow eyes. Up close, Arthur realized they were similar to what Merlin's looked like when they lit up – the gold of pure magic.

"He knows why we're here," Merlin whispered, staring at the bird in fascination.

"How do you know?" asked Mordred quietly somewhere behind Arthur.

The king never heard Merlin's response. He stood transfixed, his eyes trained on those of the bird. There had been few times in Arthur's life that he felt as if he were witnessing something remarkable. One of those had been when he'd made Merlin his Court Sorcerer. This was another one of those times. He knew without really understanding that he was beholding a creature of pure magic and that such an opportunity hadn't been given to men for centuries. He also knew as Merlin did that this bird understood the purpose of their appearance.

Arthur stepped away from the others, his eyes fixated on the phoenix unwaveringly. "Will you save her?" he asked, his voice soft, his plea spoken with all the love in his heart. "Will you come with me?"

There was a pregnant pause in which nobody moved, Arthur staring at the bird with all the hope he had left. If the phoenix didn't come with him, Guinevere would die. His only option would be to go to the Isle of the Blessed and sacrifice himself to bring her back. He'd do it in a heartbeat but if this pure creature of magic would grant his request, much heartache could be avoided.

 _Please_ , he silently begged _, I can't create Albion without her_.

The phoenix tilted its beautiful head a little to the side, one glowing eye fixated on him. Arthur had a strange sense of déjà vu, reminding him of times past when he stood before his father, waiting for his verdict. Everyone held their breath, not daring to move, and then the phoenix let out a soft, peaceful chirp before spreading its remarkable wings and flying straight towards the king. There were several shouts as Arthur instinctively lifted his arm, anticipating an attack, so it came as quite a shock when, instead, a light pressure settled on his forearm, two thick talons wrapping around his chainmail as the phoenix settled onto its new perch.

Arthur lowered his arm a bit, his eyes wide with surprise as the magnificent bird began to casually preen its feathers. "Does this mean you'll help me?" he hesitantly asked.

The phoenix stopped its work to stare at Arthur with what looked to be an amused twinkle in its eye. It was the same cheeky look Merlin gave when he was accusing the king of incompetence. Arthur frowned. Were all magical creatures so supercilious?

"I think it's safe to say he's agreed to help, Arthur."

Speaking of…

"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur muttered, though he couldn't help grinning. How could he not? The phoenix was coming with them! Guinevere was going to be okay! "We need to get back to Camelot," he declared turning to the others.

The knights all stared in awe at the firebird now resting comfortably on their king's arm. It truly was a sight to behold. Each was positively thrilled that the quest had been successful and a small cheer was given before everyone returned to where the wyverns proudly – and a little peevishly – sat. When Arthur reached his wyvern, he looked at the phoenix and frowned. Was it going to stay perched on his arm the whole time? The wyvern didn't look too thrilled about the creature. It let out a snarl and snapped its jaws together a few times. The phoenix let out a warning cry, its eyes flashing with inner fire as it began to flex its wings. Arthur felt his arm grow warm like he'd just placed it a little too close to a fire. Stepping away from the wyvern, he noticed the warmth go away as the phoenix settled once more.

"Merlin, we might have a problem," he said, turning to the warlock who was coaxing Kay's wyvern into a sitting position so the knight could mount without the beast shifting back and forth.

"What is it?" he asked after Kay was settled – much to his wyvern's chagrin.

"Apparently phoenixes and wyverns don't get along," Arthur answered, showing Merlin what he meant by closing the distance between the two creatures. The phoenix shrieked and the wyvern growled.

Merlin frowned before he reached out and stroked the phoenix's head. At the warlock's touch, the unsettled bird relaxed immediately. Arthur's eyebrows rose as he watched a soft gentleness enter his warlock's eyes, Merlin smiling contentedly as the phoenix warbled, closing its eyes in happiness while pushing its beak further into his hand.

"You can fly beside Arthur if you don't like the wyvern," Merlin suggested. "I promise it will take good care of him." His smile then grew as he added, "I can understand the connection you feel with the prat but it's okay to give him some space – if you don't, he'll get grumpy."

"Now hang on!" Arthur protested. "Merlin, are you talking to the bird?"

Merlin smirked. "Well, I'm not talking to you so..." Arthur scowled, increasing the warlock's grin. "I seem to be able to understand his intentions," he explained. "Apparently he's bonded with you and he's a little worried that the wyvern isn't going to take care of you properly."

"What do you mean he's 'bonded with me'?" Arthur asked incredulously.

Merlin shrugged. "I can't really explain it. All I can say is that when you asked him to help, some kind of connection was created between the two of you. Whatever the case, Aurelius seems determined to stay by your side."

"Aurelius? It has a name?"

"Apparently," Merlin smiled. "He's okay with flying on his own but he wants me to reassure you that he'll be close should you need him."

"You know, both of you seem to be under this misconception that I can't take care of myself," Arthur huffed in annoyance. "Though I appreciate that you care, I'm not helpless, you know!"

"I beg to differ," Merlin muttered while Aurelius chirped in agreement.

Arthur scowled. "Can we go?"

"Everyone's ready except you, princess," Gwaine called, being nearest and having overheard the conversation.

His scowl deepening, Arthur looked at Aurelius. The phoenix got the hint and left his arm after gently squeezing it between his talons. The king quickly mounted his wyvern, wrapping his hands securely around the reins. The beast growled at the phoenix that was hovering five feet nearby. Arthur could hardly fathom the fact that this phoenix had taken a shine to him. Was it going to follow him around wherever he went from now on? Merlin was bad enough. Having two extremely powerful magical creatures in his court might be a little overkill. He decided he'd figure out the logistics later. Right now he needed to focus on getting back to Guinevere.

Merlin seemed to sense his urgency for the warlock was on his wyvern and commanding the others to follow in the dragon tongue even before the king could reprimand him for taking his time. His wyvern lurched beneath him and Arthur leaned forward as the beast began to run to the cliffs edge, pushing against the rock and flapping its wings as it became airborne. The thrill of being back in the air left the king exhilarated, a broad smile beginning to climb his cheeks. Aurelius appeared close beside him, the bird's magnificent wingspan spread wide, his bright coloring standing out like a beacon amidst the blue sky and white clouds.

The ride back to the Fisher King's castle seemed shorter than the one to the Forgotten City. While Arthur was a little put out as his wyvern reconnected with the cobblestones in the old castle courtyard, Leon and Kay rejoiced.

"I am never _ever_ riding one of those again," the First Knight stated, his face green.

Kay's agreement was voiced as he lost the contents of his stomach the moment he was free from his wyvern's back.

"Poor guy," Gwaine commented beside Arthur, flipping his long dark hair out of his face. "I wouldn't mind traveling by wyvern in the future."

"Nor I – as long as Merlin's there to tame them," Tristan muttered as Aurelius landed on Arthur's shoulder.

The king smiled up at the phoenix before turning to his men. "Let's make camp and get something to eat before we head out. I want to be traveling back to Camelot within the hour. Merlin, make yourself useful and gather some firewood."

"And what are you going to be doing while I do that?"

"I'm actually going to do you a favor and re-saddle my own horse – after you fix the saddle, of course."

Merlin stared. "You mean you're actually going to work?"

Arthur rolled his eyes, flicking his warlock's ear. "Contrary to your belief, Merlin, I survived many years before you unceremoniously tripped into my life."

"A feat I marvel over on a constant basis," the warlock muttered, rubbing his ear.

"I'll help you gather wood, Merlin," Adaline offered, having removed the saddle from her own wyvern.

"Oh, um, you don't have to," Merlin stuttered, suddenly flustered.

Gwaine and Arthur shared amused looks before the former gave the warlock a little shove. "Go on, mate, we'll take care of things here."

"Fix the saddles first," Arthur reminded when Merlin stumbled over to Adaline.

"Right," Merlin muttered, straightening his neckerchief with slightly nervous fingers. With a wave of his hand, the saddles slowly changed back into their regular sizes and with one last guttural cry, he released the wyverns. The beasts were only too happy to leave, all of them taking off immediately with a few snarls here and there. "I told them to leave this place until tomorrow," Merlin explained.

"They seemed happy to do as you asked," said Isolde.

"That's because they're insulted," Mordred grinned. "Wyverns may be wild but they're still related to the dragons and dragons, according to every story I've ever read, hate being treated like the common mule."

"He's right," Merlin confirmed with a spark of laughter in his eyes, "Kilgharrah was very unhappy the one time I asked him for a lift."

"Did he actually give you one?" asked Balthazar in surprise.

"Of course. I kind of coerced him but the situation was rather dire."

"You can tell us all about it after you come back with wood," Arthur interrupted, staring pointedly at his Court Sorcerer.

Merlin rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to retort when Adaline slipped her fingers between his and whispered something in his ear. The warlock's face turned bright red and his eyes widened comically as Adaline gently pulled him along. Merlin followed in a daze. The knights shared a round of laughter as soon as the couple disappeared behind a wall.

"How much do you want to bet more will be going on than just gathering wood?" Gwaine asked while wiggling his eyebrows.

Arthur punched him in the arm. "Come on, let's see to the horses."

"I never thought I'd see the day when Merlin would find a girl," Elyan commented as the knights each worked on strapping their saddles to their respective horses.

"It is quite a surprise," Leon agreed.

"I say it's about time!" Bedivere chuckled. "I can't tell you how many conversations I'd overhear in the castle about him."

Kay nodded. "He's always been popular among the ladies – servants and courtiers alike."

"Merlin?" Arthur voiced in disbelief. "You can't be serious."

"You should pay more attention to the town gossip, my lord," Balthazar gently suggested. "Even I have heard these conversations."

"Well, now there's going to be sparks of jealousy," Gwaine chuckled, "seeing as the man is finally taken."

"I'd rather deal with jealous women than having to correct certain improper assumptions," Leon muttered.

Arthur frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

Kay, Bedivere, and Leon all became rather interested in rearranging their bedrolls. Percival coughed, Elyan fiddled with his horse's bridal, Balthazar and Mordred looked confused, and Gwaine, Tristan, and Isolde busted up laughing. Their reactions reminded Arthur of something Guinevere told him months ago – back when Merlin was still a five year old.

"Wait – people still aren't assuming that…" he trailed off, unable to complete his sentence.

"Well," Gwaine cleared his throat, "the rumors recently restarted when you made Merlin Court Sorcerer and the two of you disappeared for about three hours…"

Arthur looked mortified. "I was talking with his mother!"

"That's not the rumor I heard," Bedivere muttered.

"And what rumor did you hear, Sir Bedivere?" Arthur demanded angrily.

Scratching his dark hair, Bedivere looked apologetic. "A few lords claim they saw you and Merlin entering his chambers alone, after you dismissed Lady Guinevere without so much as a glance."

Arthur rubbed his eyes with a gloved hand. "Bloody idiots," he groaned, frustrated.

"Don't worry, princess, the rumors will die down again once everyone sees your open affections for Gwen and Merlin's for Adaline," Elyan comforted.

"This is ridiculous!" Arthur raged. "What is it going to take for those blasted fools in court to understand that I have never – _nor will I ever –_ harbor romantic feelings for Merlin?!"

There was a clatter as sticks of wood connected with stone and everyone whirled around to see Merlin standing there with a rather confused Adaline by his side.

"You harbor feels for Merlin?" Adaline asked, she being the one to have dropped her collection of wood onto the stone floor.

"What – _NO!"_ Arthur cried.

"Definitely not!" Merlin confirmed, frowning. "Who's starting up those rumors again?"

Arthur quickly explained the embarrassing situation and Merlin snorted in annoyance. "Figures," he muttered, placing all the gather firewood into a pile and lighting it with his eyes. "There are certain lords who live for stirring up such rumors in the city. Elyan's right though; your courtship with Gwen hasn't really been out in the open but now that the two of you are married, once people see how madly in love you are, the rumors will fade."

Even after everyone was sitting around the fire twenty minutes later, partaking of Merlin's signature vegetable stew, Arthur remained frustrated.

Was it his fault his relationship with Guinevere had been secretive? For months he had to hide his developing feelings for her and then, when he'd finally been brave enough to actually step out into the open, Guinevere had nearly died! After that it was a secret glance here, a private meeting there, all done in fear that someone – or worse, _his father_ – would see. Even after Uther's death, Arthur's courtship with Guinevere, while known, had been private. It was a terrible habit that the king realized needed to be broken immediately. It wasn't fair to anyone involved for such a rumor about him and Merlin to continue to circulate around the citadel. Arthur made a decision then and there that after all of this was over he was going to make his love for Guinevere so obvious that it might push the boundaries of propriety in several people's opinion. Arthur didn't care though; he loved Guinevere with all his heart. Why shouldn't he show that to the world?

"You alright?" Arthur jumped, hastily looking up to find his warlock staring at him with a slight frown. "A bit jumpy, aren't you?"

"Shut up, Merlin," the king grumbled, stirring his stew around.

"Arthur, you've hardly eaten," Merlin noted, "what's going on in that prattish mind of yours?"

Arthur sighed. "I'll tell you later."

He then shoved a large helping of food into his mouth, purposefully avoiding his warlock's concerned stare. Aurelius let out a soft warble, squeezing Arthur's shoulder with his talons. It was a comforting gesture, the creature apparently sharing Merlin's concern. Great, if he didn't watch himself, Arthur was going to have two worrywarts following him all over the place; one was bad enough. Hastily eating the rest of his stew, the king stood.

"We need to get moving," he stated.

The others didn't argue. Ever faithful, the knights got to their feet and immediately went to their horses. Merlin cleaned the dishes with a flash of his eyes – that would have been helpful in times past, Arthur noted – while Adaline doused the fire. Aurelius flew over to a nearby perch as the group mounted their horses, waiting until the king was settled before flying back over to him and perching on the front of his saddle. As usual, Merlin was the last to mount his horse.

"Come on, Merlin, we don't have all day," Arthur teased.

"I didn't see you offering to help carry any extra baggage, sire," Merlin snipped back, pointing to the usual dishes his steed carried.

"Excuses, Merlin," the king grinned before flicking the reins and digging his heels into Acker's side.

They rode hard, Arthur looking up at the lowering sun as they made their way to the bridge that would take them back into Mercia. They had another four hours before sunset but they had a long way to travel. The king had to keep in mind that it was only because of Merlin's spell that they were able to cross all of Mercia in a moment instead of a day. While he didn't want Merlin to fall into another magical coma, Arthur was afraid he might have to ask him to perform the spell again. Time just wasn't on their side. If Guinevere was going to die tonight as Merlin said, some form of magical transport was going to be necessary. Even if Kilgharrah could keep her alive until tomorrow the king didn't want to risk his wife being destroyed by exposure to such magic.

Reaching the bridge sometime later, Arthur leapt from the saddle, Aurelius staying put. The others did the same, leading their horses along the wooden path one at a time. Arthur was the first to cross, followed by Merlin. They half expected Grettir to show up but the small sorcerer was either out somewhere or asleep in his house.

While waiting for the others to cross the bridge, the king turned to his warlock and frowned. "Merlin," he began.

"I know what you're going to ask, Arthur," Merlin interrupted.

"What?"

The warlock smirked. "I'm not thick, you know. The only reason we were able to get here so quickly was because of that spell I used for us to cross through Mercia. Kilgharrah is keeping Gwen alive but time is running out. She'll die by morning. The only way we'll reach her in time is if I performed the spell again."

"But it'll knock you out," Arthur protested.

"Not necessarily. I haven't used a significant amount of magic since then and the potion Grettir gave me should have been enough to restore my energy. I think I'll be fine. I might even be able to open the gate near Camelot's entrance."

Arthur considered this a moment before rejecting the idea with a determined frown. "I'm sorry, Merlin, but you don't sound or look as if you believe your energy has fully returned and I don't need to worry about an unconscious idiot too. Just open the gate where you did before. From there, we'll have three hours to return to Camelot and in that time you can be on a horse recovering whatever energy you lose from the spell."

Merlin frowned. "But Arthur –"

"No, Merlin."

The warlock scowled. They both knew that once the king had made up his mind, nothing could sway him.

"Fine," Merlin grumbled, "Insufferable cabbage head."

Arthur rolled his eyes at the insult but refused to back down. He wasn't going to risk Merlin's health any more than necessary. He already hated having to ask him to perform such a draining spell again. He didn't need the idiot attempting to cover a greater distance and damaging himself worse than before.

The air remained tense around the two but once the others were all safely across the bridge, Merlin hopped from his horse and handed the reins to Arthur. With a nod, the warlock obeyed his king's wishes and walked a few paces before crouching near the ground.

"Wait, we're not opening another gateway, are we?" asked Gwaine, a hint of anger in his voice.

"Yes, Gwaine, we are," Arthur answered.

"You can't! Merlin–"

"Is already performing the spell," Arthur interrupted, "and before you start to shout, he agreed to this."

"But it was your idea," the knight glowered. Arthur looked away in an attempt to hide his guilt. Gwaine nudged his horse closer and added in a deathly whisper, "If anything happens to him, I'll never forgive you."

"If anything happens to him, Gwaine, I'll never forgive myself," Arthur murmured.

The gateway sprung into existence the same as before, the image of a darkened forest scene not matching the one around them now visible on the other side. Arthur recognized the lush green woods of Camelot's outer border and urged his horse forward, leading Merlin's behind. Merlin's glowing yellow eyes were even more ethereal in the faded light than during noon day, the power swirling within them like an eternal flame as Arthur past, glancing worriedly at his warlock. He prayed the others would be swift in getting through so Merlin wouldn't have to keep the gate open long.

Gwaine seemed to have stressed the need to get everyone through quickly because the others crossed through still on their horses, the animals surprisingly rather calm as they lightly cantered passed. Like before, Merlin was the last the cross, placing his back to them and stepping over the magical threshold, his hands falling to his side as he stepped from the forests of Mercia into the forests of Camelot.

Arthur watched the warlock's eyes swirl back to normal, half-raised from his saddle in preparation to dismount should Merlin collapse as before. Gwaine had already removed himself from his horse, Adaline along with him; they were the last to pass through before Merlin. The warlock began to sway, his skin paling just as it had yesterday. Gwaine and Adaline each took an arm just as Merlin started to tip sideways.

"Looks like I didn't have as much energy restored as I thought," Merlin muttered weakly, attempting to smile.

"I thought you said you were fine!" Arthur snapped, still half way out of his saddle.

"Arthur, there's no need to –"

But Merlin's words were cut off as the once silent woods erupted into screams, men springing from the shadows and attacking the knights unawares. All of them had been so concerned about Merlin that they'd neglected the obvious signs of an ambush!

The king was yanked from his saddle by a strong pair of hands, his horse bolting into the shadows as Aurelius flew towards a tall tree in fright. Cursing, Arthur forced his attacker off of him by kicking him in the face before the man could stab him in the gut. Rolling over, the king pushed himself to his feet and drew his sword, clashing with another foe just before a sword could slice into his throat. The sounds of men screaming, swords clashing, and invoked spells filled the night as the knights tried to fight off what appeared to be an infinite number of mercenaries.

"Where the heck did you all come from?" Arthur growled after stabbing his tenth opponent.

"From all over, dear brother."

Arthur gasped and spun around in time to see the witch's eyes flare gold in the dark. An invisible force slammed into Arthur's chest and he felt the all too familiar sensation of being tossed into the air like a ragdoll. His body landed hard with the forest floor, the king releasing his grip on his sword as he rolled several times in the leaves. He was going to have a bruise, he was sure of it. His chest felt like it had been smashed in with a battering ram, the wind knocked out of him. It took him longer than it should to even attempt to move. Was his head spinning?

"It's Morgana!" someone shouted.

The sounds of fighting ceased and Arthur finally collected himself enough to sit up, dazed. The scene that met his eyes was a surprising one. The two parties were still scattered amidst each other but nobody was moving, all focused on the center where Merlin and Morgana stood facing each other. The hatred in Morgana's eyes was visible even in the low sunlight, her once beautiful features now pulled into an ugly smirk. Merlin was standing tall despite his heavy breathing and his pale face, his eyes fixed with determination as sweat trailed down his brow.

"Why Emrys, you look unwell," Morgana said with false concern. "I imagine that gateway took a significant amount of magic."

"I still have plenty to defeat you, Morgana," Merlin stated, his voice strong though his limps shook.

Arthur silently cursed. _You idiot, you used up too much energy. You're going to faint!_

"We shall see," Morgana laughed, holding up a hand.

"Wait!"

Morgana scowled. "What?"

"Let the others go," Merlin commanded. "Your quarrel is with me, not them."

"I hate the knights of Camelot just as much as you, Merlin," Morgana snarled. "They are responsible for carrying out Uther's murderous demands. Hundreds of our kind died and yet you stand there defending them!"

"Because they are now trying to protect what Uther was once trying to destroy," Merlin countered. "Arthur legalized magic! He's accepted it and is now working on creating Albion."

"Don't pretend that Arthur is a saint, Merlin! We all know he's slaughtered countless numbers of our kind!"

"Under the command of my father," Arthur argued, standing up. "You know I never liked going out on those raids, Morgana. The things that happened then haunt me to this day! I'm trying to make up for my mistakes."

"The amount of blood on your hands can only be redeemed when you are dead and I take the throne," Morgana viciously snapped.

"And what will you do once you have it?" Arthur demanded, hurt as well as angry. "You have plenty of blood on your hands too, Morgana! How many have you killed in your insane thirst for revenge? What kind of kingdom are you trying to build? Because from your actions it would be one thriving on fear – the same as our father's – except while Uther would have people killed for magic, you would murder any who opposed it. How are you better than him? You're more like Uther than you want to admit!"

"ENOUGH!" Morgana screamed, her eyes flashing gold.

The raw force of magic that escaped her was strong enough to blast everyone off their feet. Arthur rolled around again in the dirt, Merlin a few paces away. The ones nearest Morgana had received the worst of the spell, most either unconscious or dead. Arthur was thankful to see his knights among those who remained relatively unharmed as he struggled to rise.

"I don't think so, brother," Morgana's sickly sweet voice jibed.

Arthur's limps were yanked back down, his back slamming into the earth. The king struggled to move but just like when Horvath plastered him to the wall, the only thing Arthur could move was his head.

"Release us!" Bedivere snarled somewhere to Arthur's right.

There were sounds of struggle from all the knights and Arthur feared the worst; Morgana was holding them all captive.

"I don't think I will, sir knight," Morgana casually stated as she stood over Arthur with his own sword.

Arthur's eyes widened as the High Priestess examined it with fascination.

"You have no right to carry such a weapon!" Merlin weakly snapped next to Arthur, his body also frozen on the ground.

"A magical blade," Morgana whispered, "Horvath told me about it but I never would have thought… no doubt your work, Merlin?"

"I may have requested it but the magic is not mine," Merlin answered.

"No, it's not, is it?" Morgana mused as she suddenly rested the point of the blade directly over Arthur's heart. "But it's just as powerful – if not more so."

"Morgana!" Merlin screamed in warning.

Arthur's heart was beating loudly in his chest though he wasn't going to show any of his inner fear to his sister. She was going to kill him. The gateway spell had stolen more energy from Merlin than he'd realized so Arthur didn't expect him to be in any shape to fight. Mordred and Balthazar's magic, while strong, didn't hold a candle against that of a High Priestess either. This really was the end.

 _It looks like I'll be joining Guinevere in Avalon_ , he silently mused.

"Go ahead," he whispered. "We both know you want to."

Morgana's eyes burned with hatred and revenge, her mouth suddenly curling in a wicked smile. "You're right, Arthur, I have been _longing_ to do this."

She drew back the blade but instead of thrusting it into Arthur's chest, the witch twisted to the side and drove the sword into Merlin's unsuspecting stomach. The warlock gasped in surprise, the yellow in his eyes and the spell on his lips in order to save his king instantly fading away, forgotten as immense pain sprouted from the source of the wound. Morgana twisted the hilt and Merlin screamed in agony. With a sadistic smile on her face, the witch extracted Excalibur and stood back.

"No longer will you be my doom, Emrys," she whispered.

Arthur was frozen in shock, watching the scene play out before him in disbelief. Excalibur, his sword, was now covered in his warlock's blood. An earsplitting noise shook his eardrums and it took the king a moment to realize he was the source, his anguished cry searing his throat as he screamed, _"MERRRLIIIIN!"_

Eyes filled with intense pain, Merlin's head snapped towards his king, his body convulsing as he tried to breathe. "Ar-thur," he gasped, blood escaping his lips.

The king strained against his invisible bonds until his muscles ached. "MERLIN!" he screamed again, desperately, hopelessly.

The hem of a black tattered dress blocked Arthur's view of his dying warlock and the king looked up to see Morgana's twisted face of triumph. She still held Excalibur, her eyes burning with insanity and hatred.

"Do not mourn him, Arthur. You will soon join him – along with your filthy queen. And then, when I'm finished with your precious Knights of the Round Table, I'll take Camelot and bathe the streets in your people's blood. Camelot will become a kingdom of magic and those without will be our slaves. It's a pity you won't be able to see it. Long live the king!"

Morgana lifted the blade high and Arthur watched it fall...

* * *

 **To be clear, I wrote this before my mother's passing - which is a good thing since I don't think I would have been able to write it otherwise. I'd love to know your thoughts (dodges as angry fans throw countless goblets in her direction for giving them such a terrible cliffhanger). Love you guys! Next chapter will be up soon! Please review! (runs away)**


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or Disney**

* * *

24: Emrys

Time seemed to slow down as Arthur watched his life flash before his eyes. In the last moments remaining to him, he couldn't help but wish he had more time so he could create the vision Merlin had always dreamt of – that he himself had always dreamt of – a land where all were equal, where people thrived off of happiness and peace: the land of Albion.

The world suddenly erupted in fire and, for a moment, Arthur thought he'd died and gone to Hell for not accomplishing his destiny. But then he heard multiple things at once: Morgana screamed, the dull thunk of something heavy fell into the dirt, and the screech of a very angry firebird rent the air.

The king gasped when he finally discovered through the chaos how close he was to an abrupt wall of flame soaring before him about the height of a man. It seemed to be acting as a barrier, protecting him and Merlin from Morgana's wrath. But fire was still fire and the king wasn't fool enough to stay close to it. His body reacting instinctively, Arthur used his hands and heels to propel himself backward, his body scrambling away from the anomaly that licked the ground. It wasn't until he'd made it three feet that he truly realized he'd regained control over his limbs. He caught sight of Merlin's struggling form, lying inches away from the firewall.

"Merlin!" he shouted, rushing back towards his brother.

The king fell to his knees and scooped the wounded warlock into his arms, holding him protectively against his chest as he again retreated from the flames. Merlin cried out in pain, clutching his wound as the movement jostled him back and forth. Arthur muttered an apology but didn't stop. He had to get them away from the fire! Settling about five feet away, Arthur began to apply pressure to Merlin's wound but the sounds of battle distracted him and he looked up through the fire to see what was taking place.

Morgana could be seen through the flames retreating with all due haste as Aurelius chased after her, a stream of fire reigning from his beak; it would have been a rather comical sight had the situation not been so dire. Furious, Morgana paused in her retreat to fling a spell at the irate creature but her assault was thwarted by the eternal flame coming from its mouth. The last High Priestess dived out of the way to avoid the bird's downward attack. With a screech, Aurelius's talons raked into the forest floor leaving scorch marks in the earth where Morgana had previously stood.

As the witch and phoenix continued their duel, Arthur was able to make out his knights. Now that they had control of their limps, each had engaged an opponent in battle. The occasional mercenary was seen flying through the air as Mordred and Balthazar used their magic to disarm their foes. Adaline and Isolde were working side by side, the two women proving more than their worth as countless enemies fell by arrow and sword. Percival rescued Kay from behind by barreling into a mercenary trying to catch him unawares and Bedivere protected Gwaine from the swing of a madman's ax. Elyan and Leon tag teamed eliminating a group of men that had been trying to find a way to sneak around the firewall to finish Merlin and Arthur off. What surprised the king the most was Tristan pulling a daring move by stabbing Morgana in the back with his blade while she was aiming yet another spell at Aurelius as he descended from the air.

Screaming in rage, the High Priestess flung Tristan away from her. The brave fool slammed into the ground and rolled a few times, stopping near the trunk of a tree. Isolde ran to his side, Adaline covering for her by taking down any mercenary that tried to intercept her path with her bow and arrows. Morgana stalked forward to kill Tristan and Isolde but Aurelius stopped her by sinking his talons into her shoulder and wrenching her arm painfully backward. The witch's clothing instantly burst into flame and Morgana frantically began beating at the phoenix to release her. She cried out as her hands caught fire the second they made contact with the firebird's plumage. Her eyes lit up with magic and an explosion of energy burst from her body. Like the gale of a mighty storm, the magic wave not only made Aurelius lose his grip but caused everyone in the vicinity to fly through the air. Arthur bent over Merlin, terrified that the wall of flame would fall upon them from the blast, but the fire held firm when the wave struck its surface, protecting them both.

"This isn't over!" Morgana screeched through the gloom, her voice filled with pain. "I will have my revenge and my throne! Mark my words!"

She then disappeared in a burst of wind and the remaining mercenaries, once on their feet, retreated into the trees with full knowledge that they had lost this round. Once all of them were gone, the fire wall magically vanished. Aurelius landed near where Excalibur resided in the dirt and let out a sorrowful chirp. The phoenix had saved their lives but Arthur was too distraught to send him a thank you; he was too busy cradling the warlock in his arms.

"Merlin," he desperately cried, "Merlin, please…"

The warlock choked, gasping a little as he smiled weakly through bloodstained lips. His blue eyes were clouded with pain and tears as he mumbled, "Hey, prat… Good… to see you're okay…"

Tears pooled in Arthur's eyes. "But you're not," he sobbed.

"It's okay," Merlin muttered softly as Arthur took his hand. "It's okay."

The threat now gone, the knights came running, forming a loose circle around them. Adaline brokenly gasped when she saw her love's wound, her hands covering her mouth as she collapsed on Merlin's other side. Gwaine swore before dropping down next to her, holding her as she began to cry.

"You idiot," Arthur whispered through his tears. "You shouldn't have used that spell! Grettir warned me – he said you were going to do something reckless – something that would make it so you couldn't help."

"I don't regret it," Merlin feebly replied. "This way… you can still save Gwen…"

Arthur's eyes widened as his heavy heart lifted. _Of course!_ Why hadn't he thought of it sooner? The king looked around frantically until he found the phoenix. "Aurelius!" he cried desperately, his eyes full of hope. "You can heal him!"

The phoenix stared at Arthur sadly before shaking its head in refusal, a mournful chirp escaping its beak. The king's jaw dropped in disbelief.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tristan shouted angrily.

"A phoenix has the power to heal any wound," Balthazar stated, confused. "Why does he refuse to help Emrys?"

Mordred gasped and stared at Merlin as if he was seeing him for the first time.

"What, Mordred?" Arthur demanded, holding onto Merlin like he never had before. "What is it?"

Mordred's wide blue eyes looked from Merlin to the phoenix before they found the king's. "He's Emrys," he whispered.

Confused as to why the young knight was so shocked, Arthur was about to demand further explanation when Merlin gasped painfully and redoubled his grip on his hand. Everything around the king disappeared, Merlin instantly being the only thing that mattered. The warlock's eyes found his and through the pain Arthur saw the love, devotion, and loyalty Merlin reserved only for him. There was also a silent apology.

"You're not leaving me," Arthur pled, refusing the apology Merlin was trying to convey. "You can't!"

Merlin looked sad. "Arthur…"

The warlock swallowed painfully, tears now freely trailing down his face. He reached up and rested a shaking hand on the king's cheek. Arthur held it there, his tears redoubling as his heart began to break. A small proud smile lifted the corners of the warlock's mouth.

"Don't be… a prat…"

The last word was spoken with Merlin's last breath, the light leaving those blue eyes that were always so full of life, so full of love. Something within the king broke, his body overcome with sobs as a cavity opened up in his chest. The other half of the coin was gone, leaving behind a broken vessel that none other could fill. Arthur's worst nightmare had come to pass.

"No," he choked out as Merlin's hand slipped from his. _"NO!_ Merlin? _MERLIN?!_ Come back! I never gave you permission to die, you idiot! _COME – BACK!"_

Arthur sobbed, selflessly breaking apart in front of his men; not that they were any better off. Despite strict training to never openly show such emotion, tears glistened silently down the cheeks of the Knights of Camelot. Tristan held Isolde as she sobbed openly into his shoulder while Gwaine supported Adaline, both breaking down almost as badly as Arthur. Mordred alone didn't seem the epitome of despair. He was sorrowful, yes, but there was something else in his eyes.

Aurelius let out a soft chirp and Arthur looked up, murderous. The phoenix had refused to save him. It had the power to heal him and yet it had not. _Why?!_ Weren't all creatures of magic supposed to know how important Merlin was? Albion had been destroyed the second the warlock had taken his last breath! Because without Merlin, Arthur was _nothing_ ; he couldn't be the Once and Future King without him! The king's heart filled with despair. They had failed Destiny.

They'd _failed_.

With this realization something further broke inside his chest and, though Merlin had been the one to physically die, Arthur felt as if he had too. His entire world had been ripped apart in a moment. The numbness spiraling around in his brain was instantly replaced by an insurmountable explosion of anger as Aurelius let out another chirp. As he looked at the phoenix the king could think of only one way to ease the pain threatening to drown him. Vision red, Arthur reached for Excalibur, but before he could grasp the hilt and strike the creature that could have been Merlin's salvation, the impossible happened.

A gasp erupted from Merlin's mouth and the warlock's chest rapidly rose. Arthur froze, his eyes widening in disbelief as he witnessed what could only be a miracle. Merlin's eyelids flew open, irises of pure gold shining in the natural fading sunlight with an intensity that rivaled the sun at noonday. The fatal wound in his stomach temporarily lit up the same color before the light faded, leaving nothing but a faint scar in its wake. Merlin bolted upright, gasping heavily as his golden eyes returned to their normal blue. He looked around wildly at the knights until he found the eyes of his king.

"Arthur?" he whispered in disbelief, his chest heaving like he'd run for miles.

"Merlin? How…?"

"Emrys," Mordred muttered reverently. The druid then surprised them all by bowing low, showing the epitome of respect one reserved only for the highest of nobility. "The Immortal One."

Alarm filled Merlin's eyes as he stared at Mordred. Arthur's eyebrows drew together in confusion as he watched a silent conversation pass between the druid and the warlock. Mordred looked sad as he shook his head and Merlin's shoulders slumped. The warlock instantly filled with unimaginable sorrow, his countenance seeming to age a century overnight.

"I won't die," he whispered brokenly.

Mordred regretfully confirmed this statement with a nod. "You are magic itself, Emrys. You will always be, for Magic will always be."

The king's brain finally digested what was being said and his heart constricted in panic. "Hang on," he cried in fear, "Merlin can't die?" Mordred shook his head since the warlock was staring at the ground in utter despair. "But – that's _impossible!"_ Arthur spluttered. "Everyone dies!"

Merlin finally broke out of his inner turmoil. "When have I ever been like everyone else, Arthur?" he asked with a broken smile, sadness swirling in his countenance. "I've told you before that even to my own kind I'm an anomaly."

"Did you know?" Arthur demanded, anger over this new revelation mixing in with the fear he felt. "Did you know that you couldn't die?"

Merlin's sorrow increased as he shook his head. "No… I guess I never gave much thought to my druidic name. I've been so focused on keeping you alive… the meaning never sunk in."

Arthur swore. How could this even be possible? While he was happy that Merlin wasn't gone, he couldn't help but feel terrified – not for himself, no, but for Merlin. Immortality was something many dreamt of but very few possessed. The Fisher King had been one such person and from what Merlin told him, the ancient sovereign longed for nothing but death when they'd met. Arthur had a horrible vision of Merlin sitting alone in a ruin that had once been Camelot, his long white hair and beard unable to hide the sorrow coming from his eyes, consuming his archaic soul. The nightmare shook the king to the core. Would Merlin be like the Fisher King? Could he be killed? Would he age? Was he going to be stuck here while everyone he loved moved on, leaving him behind?

There were so many unknown factors to this new concept that Arthur was developing a migraine. And through the midst of it all, the sudden realization dawned that there was still a more pressing matter they had to attend to. While he was glad Merlin was here, they still had to heal Guinevere! Panicking over how much time they'd lost, Arthur interrupted the knights who were bombarding both Mordred and a rather distraught Merlin with questions of their own.

"We don't have time for this right now!" he declared, pushing himself off his knees before bodily helping Merlin to his feet. "We need to get back to Camelot. After Guinevere is healed, we'll discuss this in greater detail." He then turned to Aurelius and frowned. "You didn't help Merlin because you knew he was going to come back on his own." It wasn't a question but the phoenix nodded anyway. Arthur sighed. "But you will heal Guinevere?"

The phoenix nodded again. Arthur held out his arm and the bird flew over to him, his talons lightly looping around his chainmail.

"Arthur, we're still hours away from Camelot and Morgana's men chased off the horses," Leon reluctantly pointed out. "How are we to make it back?"

The king froze, his determination quickly being replaced with panic and despair. He couldn't ask Merlin. The idiot looked dead on his feet – both emotionally and physically. How on earth were they going to cross that many leagues in time? Guinevere's fate seemed impossible to cure. Was she really meant to die? The thought nearly caused another sob to escape the king.

"Arthur," Merlin whispered, reaching out and squeezing his shoulder, "Aurelius can take us there."

"What?" Arthur gasped, turning to face his warlock.

"Aurelius, he's telling me that he can take us there."

"How?" asked Percival.

Merlin shrugged tiredly. "He just said to grab hold of his tail feathers."

"That's an odd request," Elyan voiced.

"Odd or not, if it gets us to Guinevere then we'll do it," Arthur growled, grabbing some of the feathers as instructed.

Merlin took some too without hesitation. After a shared shrug of the shoulders, Gwaine and Percival followed their example before the rest of the knights joined in. The phoenix let out a soothing cry before its entire body erupted once more into flame, consuming them all. Arthur wasn't the only one to cry out in surprise as warmth engulfed him and his feet lifted off the ground. A moment later the fire dissipated and there was a shriek as the inner chambers of Camelot's Court Physician surrounded them. Gaius was holding his heart while Iseldir was supporting a rather shocked Hunith. The king only spared them a glance as he noticed his wife lying on the physician's bed, her body encased in a golden glow.

"It's Kilgharrah's magic," Merlin explained.

"Bless my stars," Hunith muttered, "you gave us all a fright!"

"Sorry mother."

But instead of relief, Hunith's eyes widened in terror. "Merlin! You're covered in blood! What on earth happened?"

"We'll explain but first we need to help Gwen," he answered as Arthur looked to Aurelius.

Noticing the phoenix for the first time, Iseldir gasped in awe. "The firebird…"

"You found it!" Gaius cried excitedly.

"We did," Arthur nodded. "Aurelius, would you please?"

The phoenix let out a soft cry before flying over to where the dying queen lay. Landing gently on the bed beside her, the bird located the wound and chirped at Merlin. The warlock interpreted the message and held out his hand. Magic removed the bandages, exposing decaying flesh for all to see. Arthur nearly cried at the sight. Aurelius lowered his head, tilting it to the side. Tears of gold began to drip from the corner of its eye, the drops falling thick and fast onto Guinevere's wound. The rotten flesh began to glow and the wound sealed shut as magic wove through it. Aurelius ceased to cry, letting out a soft chirp before flying up to the banister in the corner. The glow of Kilgharrah's magic faded and the queen let out a gasp as her eyes flew open. Arthur was beside her in seconds, taking her hands.

"Guinevere," he whispered, searching her eyes.

No longer did she look like Death's next victim. Her skin was smooth, her brown eyes were bright with life, and her breathing was strong.

"Arthur?" she cried. "How? What's going on? Where's Horvath? I thought…"

Instead of answering her, Arthur wrapped her in his arms and kissed her. Though shocked at first, the queen melted into the embrace, responding to the kiss while resting a gentle hand against Arthur's neck.

"You're okay," Arthur murmured, holding her tight, "you're okay."

The queen, though still disoriented, soothed him. "I'm okay."

They pulled apart and Arthur laughed. That was when Guinevere noticed he was covered in blood. "Arthur! You're bleeding!"

"What? Oh, no, it's Merlin's blood not mine."

"Merlin's?!" she cried in alarm.

"Arthur, you're only confusing her further," Merlin chided, pushing him aside so he could give the queen a hug of his own. "It's good to see you back, Gwen. We've got a lot to tell you."

"I'll say," said Gaius somewhere behind them as Arthur smacked his Court Sorcerer over the head.

"Ouch! What was that for?"

"You can't just go around hugging the queen whenever you want to, you idiot!"

"Why? Because you said so? Like I've ever listened to you before."

"There's going to be some new rules that you'd better listen to if you don't want to end up in magical restraints in the stocks!" Arthur stated.

"That's an empty threat and you know it!"

"Boys!" Guinevere shouted, stopping the banter. "Will you both kindly explain to me what on earth happened?"

Arthur and Merlin shared a look before they began taking turns recounting the tale of all that had transpired from the time of Horvath's dastardly plot to Guinevere's rescue from the Questing Beast's poison. When it had come to explaining Merlin's immortality, the warlock clamped up and remained quiet until the end of the tale, leaving Arthur and the knights to divulge the rest. There was an uncomfortable silence and then Guinevere broke it by reaching out and taking Merlin's hand.

"Thank you, Merlin," she kindly smiled, "for saving Arthur and helping to save me. I don't think he or the knights would have made it very far without you."

The sadness in Merlin's eyes lifted a little as he smiled. "I'd never let anything bad happen to you, Gwen."

"I know," the queen gratefully replied.

"I think it's high time we all get some much needed rest," Gaius stated, ever the physician. "All of you have been through quite the ordeal."

Everyone knew that Gaius was right so they all began taking their leave. Merlin would have been the first out the door had it not been for his mother calling him back. The others watched as the Court Sorcerer let out a heavy sigh before turning around and walking back over to his mother, his head bowed low. Arthur had hoped he was the only one to see the tears on Merlin's face but from the concerned look Gwaine shared with Leon, he knew he hadn't been. The king caught their eye and waved his hand for them to leave Merlin be. Who better to help him right now than his mother? The Knights of the Round nodded, accepting the dismissal. Bowing to their sovereigns, they each left the room, Iseldir following after them. Adaline also excused herself, looking at Merlin worriedly but knowing there wasn't really anything she could currently do for him.

Arthur squeezed Guinevere's hand. "Wait for me in the hall?" he quietly whispered.

"Okay," she smiled.

Kissing her forehead, Arthur let her go before turning to his warlock and sighing. He didn't know why he'd stayed. He didn't really know how he felt about Merlin's immortality either. Worried and scared were definitely at the top of the list, though. But how was he supposed to comfort Merlin when he was in need of comfort himself?

"Was there something further you needed, sire?" Gaius prompted.

Arthur jumped. He'd forgotten Gaius was even in the room; the older man had been so quiet in the corner. "Um, well…" he fumbled, not exactly sure what to say.

"It's okay, Arthur." The king looked up to find Merlin staring at him gratefully. "You don't need to stay."

"Are you sure?" Arthur pressed.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

Arthur bit his lip but gave in. He somehow knew that Merlin needed space right now, even if he was happy that his king seemed to care. "Alright," Arthur sighed, "But get some sleep, okay? You look awful."

"I'd say the same to you, Arthur, but you might not get much sleep tonight."

"Merlin!" Hunith chided, slapping her son's arm reproachfully though she herself was trying not to grin.

Arthur's face turned bright red as he suddenly caught on to what Merlin was implying. Right… now that Guinevere was okay…

His heart took off, his eyes widening. It didn't help that Merlin was smirking knowingly. Covering his nerves and embarrassment with anger, Arthur picked up the nearest thing and threw it, aiming for his Court Sorcerer's face. It turned out to be a book so it was a good thing Merlin stopped it from reaching its target. Despite the fact that he was nearly hit with a thick volume, the warlock chuckled lightly as the king stormed towards the door.

"We're going to have a long talk tomorrow, Merlin!" he stated."With you in the stocks!"

The ghost of the warlock's laughter reached his ears as he slammed the door shut and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Idiot," he muttered, his cheeks still pink. Someone giggled and Arthur looked up, startled. "Guinevere!"

"Are you alright, Arthur?" she asked with a smile.

The king's heart took off again as he realized that Guinevere was now his _wife_ and he had every right to take her into his chambers at this hour, no questions asked. Excitement and nerves suddenly erupted in the king's stomach like a drove of butterflies. Swallowing, he became very aware of Guinevere's thin waist and the low cut of her dress.

"Arthur?"

"Hmmm? What?" the king asked, shaking his head.

"Are you alright?" Guinevere repeated, eyeing him curiously.

"Yes," he assured, wrapping his arms around her waist and drawing her close to him.

Smiling at her, Arthur bent down and claimed her lips before sweeping her unexpectedly off her feet. Guinevere let out a surprised giggle, quickly wrapping her arms around his neck as the king started making his way towards his room. They passed a few servants who had to do a double take. No one had seen either royal for two days, everyone assuming that they had been locked away in the king's chambers this whole time. Rumors were sure to arise as to why they were roaming around but at the moment Arthur didn't care. Reaching his room, he pushed the door open and carried Guinevere inside. The new queen's cheeks were flushed pink.

Setting her down on the bed, Arthur rubbed the back of his head, not entirely sure how to proceed. Guinevere seemed to be equally unsure, biting her lower lip nervously. The two shared a look before both started giggling.

"I confess I've never been in this situation before," Guinevere admitted.

Arthur scratched his cheek. "I'd like to say the same but… magic love potions and what not…"

Guinevere laughed. "Well, hopefully the real thing will be different than not being in control of yourself."

"I have no doubt that it will," he quickly assured.

Guinevere raised an eyebrow. "And how can you be so sure?"

"Because none of those experiences were with you," he muttered, gently rubbing the pad of his thumb against the side of her cheek.

Guinevere's eyes softened as the gentle smile the king cherished so much graced her beautiful face.

"I love you, Arthur."

"As I love you, Guinevere."

He then slowly began kissing her, his hands resting on either side of her thighs. Instinct soon took over and the king's tongue gently slipped against Guinevere's lips. The queen allowed him entrance and Arthur lowered her backward so he was now fully on top of her, his lips still moving silkily over her own. One kiss became many and soon enough, after a little maneuvering and a few giggles, Arthur found himself shirtless while Guinevere was lying beneath him in nothing but her undergown, her long hair spread out in beautiful curls over the pillows.

"Exquisite," Arthur whispered, his finger tracing the features of her face.

Guinevere's cheeks darkened and the king lowered himself to reclaim her lips, his hands beginning to explore areas he had previously denied them. Guinevere gasped in pleasure, her hold on the back of Arthur's neck tightening as she crushed her lips even further against his. An explosion of passion suddenly rocked them both and they continued to make new discoveries about each other, consummating their marriage and deepening their love in a way they never had been able to before.

[][][]

Two weeks passed and the kingdom flourished. The truth as to what happened the night of Arthur and Guinevere's marriage somehow leaked out; the king suspected it was one of those pesky lords that tried to arrest his Court Sorcerer though it was never confirmed. Arthur had done as Merlin asked, begrudgingly forgiving the lords and doing what he could to work with them in future council meetings – although he expressly warned them that he would strip them of their titles and make them work in the fields until the end of their days if they ever questioned Merlin's authority again.

Since the story of their poisoning was made known, it became necessary to tell the people how the royals were healed – and why a phoenix now roamed Camelot's halls – although Arthur and Guinevere both decided it was best to leave Merlin's fate out of the details. Horvath's betrayal was a heavy blow and for a few days people seemed distrustful of the knights with magic. Balthazar and Mordred's relationship with the Knights of the Round helped to settle fears and soon training resumed without any further craftily laid insults. Merlin also received a little ill treatment from the incident but his popularity quickly won over the few prejudices some lords possessed. Overall the people were thrilled that the warlock had been adopted into the royal family and immediately started treating him as such. Merlin hated it and everyone who knew him personally knew it too.

This was why Arthur was currently ignoring state affairs to search for his warlock who had recently taken to hiding as much as possible in neglected parts of the castle. This time the king found him in the tallest tower of Camelot, a thin spire that overlooked the entire city. The warlock didn't even turn around when Arthur threw open the door.

" _There_ you are!" the king growled in slight annoyance. "Did you know there was a case just now that had to deal with a magical dispute? Usually such things are handled by my Court Sorcerer but _he_ was nowhere to be found! So guess who had to calm a raging woman dealing with a fire-breathing chicken that her neighbor decided to curse in the lower town?!"

"Did it get cleared up?" Merlin asked without emotion, his back still to his king as he leaned against the tower's edge, his eyes trained on the countryside.

Arthur sighed through his nose, his anger leaving him. "Mordred went to sort it out." The king joined the warlock and let out another heavy sigh. "Are you ever going to talk to me, Merlin?"

The warlock hung his head. "I'm sorry, Arthur."

"You've been avoiding me," the king said, a little hurt. "Don't think I haven't noticed. You attend most of the meetings like you're supposed to, you answer questions, and you come to feasts, but you disappear as soon as those are over. Are you mad at me?"

"What? No!" Merlin immediately consoled. "Why would you think that?"

"Because I made you a member of the royal family and now everywhere you go, people treat you differently."

"People were treating me differently when they found out I had magic, Arthur. This is nothing new."

"Then what's _really_ bothering you?"

Merlin sighed. "I guess," he muttered, playing with a bright purple neckerchief over his finely made silver tunic, "I just thought you'd treat me differently after what happened."

Arthur frowned as he watched his Court Sorcerer rub the spot where Excalibur had stabbed him. "Merlin, it's been two weeks. It doesn't take me that long to figure out how I feel about something. You should know that."

"Were you angry?"

"Why on earth would I be angry? If anything, I was scared," the king quietly admitted. "Still am, in fact."

"You're scared of me?" Merlin asked dejectedly.

"What? No! Ugh, I'm scared _for_ you, Merlin," Arthur corrected, yanking on the brim of the warlock's light gray hat.

Merlin rearranged his hat with a frown _. "For_ me?"

" _Yes!_ How do you think it makes _me_ feel knowing that one day I'm going to abandon you?" Arthur raged, allowing his emotions from the last two weeks to fully burst in a full-on tirade. "To know that you'll still be here, wandering around Camelot without me? Will you ever grow old? Will you ever move on? Will you one day have to witness the rise and fall of the kingdoms around us? Will you eventually forget me? I can't stand the thought of you suffering, Merlin, but that's exactly what you've been doing these past two weeks and I can't think of anything to change that! You look as if you've aged a decade in a fortnight! I hate this! Why does the Old Religion continue to punish you?! What have you done to deserve this?"

The warlock witnessed his king's frustration with a furrowed brow and a small frown. When Arthur finished, Merlin sighed before grinning. "Feel better?"

Arthur stared. "How on earth can you smile right now?"

"Because of you, Arthur," Merlin answered seriously. "I was expecting you to be angry and demanding a way to fix the problem but instead you surprise me by showing that you care."

"Of course I care, you idiot," Arthur mumbled, staring out at his kingdom.

"You're right," Merlin muttered a moment later, "I _have_ been an idiot."

Arthur raised a curious eyebrow. "Since when do you actually admit that I'm right?"

"Don't get so pleased, Arthur, most of the time you're not," Merlin teased. The king flicked his ear, the warlock smiling happily. But the smile dimmed a little as he continued, "I'm an idiot because I'm moping over something that I can't change. I went to the Crystal Cave last week."

"That's where you ran off to?"

Merlin nodded. "I went looking for answers. The only one I got was that my immortality is necessary in order for Destiny to be fulfilled."

"What on earth is that supposed to mean? Didn't we already do that?"

"Not quite," Merlin said, shaking his head. "We still have to unite the lands under one rule, Arthur."

The king swallowed. "Oh, right…"

Merlin saw right through Arthur's insecurities. "You can do it, Arthur," he stated with conviction. "I know you can."

"Merlin, my allies are my friends. I don't think I would take kindly to any of them coming here and asking me to step down so they could rule in my stead."

"That's not how you're going to unite the lands, you clotpole!" Merlin groaned, thumping his king on the head.

"Ouch!" Arthur glared at his warlock, retaliating by yanking his hat. "Then how, pray tell, am I supposed to unite the kingdoms under one rule?"

Merlin shrugged. "I don't know but it's not going to be through simply asking for their thrones. Events will occur that will inspire the others to consider you their leader and Albion will naturally develop over time."

"You have a lot of faith in this," Arthur muttered, resting his chin on his folded arms.

"I have faith in you, Arthur," Merlin declared. "I know you will one day be the greatest king this world has ever known."

"I think you're missing the reason I came up here," Arthur complained, turning to his warlock in exasperation. "I came up here to comfort _you_ , remember?"

"And you have," Merlin smiled. "You've reminded me of my purpose. I may be fated to live forever but that doesn't mean that I should stop living. I have a prat to protect and a kingdom to help him build. I don't have time to mope."

Arthur stared, shaking his head in disbelief. "Wonders never cease," he sighed with a weary smile. "You truly are a riddle, Merlin. You can take an entirely hopeless situation and find something to smile about. How can you just accept what the Old Religion has done to you?"

The warlock shrugged. "A man can look at his fate and give in to despair or he can hold his head high and choose to be the master of it." He then pushed himself away from the wall and grinned. "Come on, Arthur; there's a kingdom we need to build and it starts with making sure Mordred hasn't let that fire-breathing chicken terrorize the lower town."

Patting his king on the shoulder, Camelot's Court Sorcerer left the tower, his eyes rekindled with the sparkle they'd been missing for so long. Arthur stared after his warlock in awe.

"He is, without doubt, the bravest man I have ever met." Grinning to himself, the king started down the stairs. "Merlin, that chicken is _your_ problem! Court Sorcerer duties, remember?"

"Last I checked, protecting the people was _yours_ , cabbage head!"

"Merlin!"

Hearing the laughter as well as the faster footfalls of his idiot, Arthur picked up the pace chasing after him. The king's strides quickened once he emerged from the tower steps into a corridor Merlin was already half way down.

"MERLIN!" He snarled.

The warlock chanced a glance over his shoulder, smirking before dashing around the corner.

"I'm not going to solve your problems!" Arthur shouted after him, rounding the corner and running past his Round Table Knights.

"I've solved plenty of yours!" Merlin called back. "It's time to return the favor!"

The king and warlock emerged into the courtyard a few minutes later, playful insults falling from their lips as they continued the game of chase. As they ran towards the lower town, they passed many of their friends, all of whom were smiling widely at the sight.

The lingering cloud that had hovered the last two weeks seemed to have passed, allowing the sun to shine upon the kingdom once more, restoring hope to all who dwelt therein. And the King of Camelot inwardly rejoiced for his warlock, the other half of his coin, was finally smiling.

* * *

 **[][][] One Year Later [][][]**

* * *

The familiar bellow was heard throughout the citadel as an irate king stormed down the hall towards his Court Sorcerer's tower. Servants and courtiers leapt out of his way, trying to hide knowing smiles.

"MERLIN!"

Arthur growled when he received no response, turning the corner to the steps of his old friend's domain. Climbing the small staircase and throwing the door open, the king searched the circular room until he located the source of his ire. Merlin was crouched in the center of the room, his fingers covered in white chalk that he seemed to be painting onto the floor.

"Are you defacing the stones _again?_ " Arthur asked, exasperated.

"Oh, hello Arthur," Merlin smiled, returning to his work. "I thought I heard you bellowing."

"Then why didn't you answer?" the king demanded.

"Because I'm obviously in the middle of something, you prat," he said, gesturing to the circle he stood in.

"What on earth is this?" Arthur wondered, his anger slightly abating due to curiosity.

In the past year, it had quickly become commonplace for various explosions and anomalies to grace Merlin's tower. Now that he had free reign of his magic, Merlin had taken to exploring every avenue – though not all of his experiments ended well. The worst so far had been two months ago when he'd changed everyone in the kingdom into some sort of animal. Arthur had continued to roar like a lion for nearly a week while his knights bleated like sheep. Merlin had made a joke about the lion lying down with the lambs. Arthur hadn't been amused.

The warlock's latest experiment was some kind of magic circle. Merlin stood in the middle of what looked like a ring. Inside the ring were six individual spheres that were separated by lines that stretched out from the center circle where he stood. Each of the six spheres held a different kind of symbol. Arthur felt apprehensive as he shuffled closer to examine the floor.

"This isn't going to result in you creating another swamp in the palace kitchens, is it?" he asked. "Because I don't think I can take another one of Elliani's lectures."

Merlin chuckled. "No, it won't create a swamp, Arthur. This is something I've been working on in order to help those with magic to better focus their power."

Arthur was definitely interested now. In the last few months there had been many people discovering their magic but lacking the capability of controlling it. It had caused quite a ruckus, resulting in many homes needing to be rebuilt and farmland needing to be restored after accidental fires and floods.

"And does this thing have a name?"

"The Merlin Circle," the warlock proudly stated.

Arthur's lips cracked in a smile before he snorted out a laugh he could no longer contain. "You named it after yourself? And you call me conceited!"

"It's my invention so, yes, I did!" Merlin huffed. "I feel I have every right to do so!"

"Whatever makes you feel better, Merlin," Arthur chuckled. The warlock muttered something that sounded suspiciously like prat. Arthur's grin widened. "So, have you tested it out?"

"I was about to," Merlin griped, wiping the chalk off his hands, "but then you barged in like a raging boar."

"Well, don't let me stop you now," the king smirked, walking over to a nearby stool and sitting down. "Let's see the great Merlin's Circle in action!"

"You're a right cabbage head, you know that?"

"And you love me for it. Now shut up and get on with it."

"Fine," Merlin sighed, straightening.

Closing his eyes, the warlock took a deep breath before opening them, the irises now a brilliant gold. The circle erupted in a wall of flame and Arthur would later deny crying out in alarm as he nearly fell out of his chair. Over the flames Merlin could be heard shouting out some gibberish. A blinding white light erupted in the circle and the flames extinguished as a loud bang rent the air, the explosion causing books to topple off shelves and potion bottles to shatter into dust. Arthur leapt to his feet in worry as the circle filled with smoke.

"Merlin!"

Someone started coughing but Arthur was confused for the tone was not Merlin's.

"Arthur? What's going on? How did we get in a tower when we were at a lake? Was it the angel in the water? Did she bring us here?"

The King of Camelot stared in disbelief and amusement as a five year old boy stumbled out of the circle in a red tunic and a blue neckerchief three times his size. Arthur started to laugh and for the longest time he couldn't seem to stop.

"What's so funny?" Merlin demanded, folding his arms even though his sleeves were now too big. "And why am I wearing one of your shirts again?"

The door to the Court Sorcerer's tower opened with a bang, Sirs Gwaine and Leon storming in with worry in their eyes.

"We heard the explosion. Merlin, are you–" Gwaine stopped mid-inquiry as his eyes fell on the bemused form of his now five year old friend.

"Oh no," Leon sighed, "not again."

"I'll go get Adaline," Gwaine offered while chuckling.

"Wait," Arthur called, halting the roguish knight.

In the past year there had been many times the king had missed the five year old version of the other side of his coin. He'd never dared to ask Merlin to revert to a child again but now that it had happened accidentally…

"Why not take advantage of this?" he asked with a shrug. "Things have been pretty uptight as of late. Perhaps Arlin could lighten things up?"

Gwaine started to grin. "You just want an excuse to get out of preparing for King Odin's eventual arrival next week."

"Can you blame me?" Arthur asked with a shrug.

"Arthur, what's going on?" Merlin demanded, yanking on his hand. "Where are we?"

The king smiled down at his little warlock before picking him up and setting him on his lap. "We're in Camelot, Merlin. This is the secret tower of the Court Sorcerer."

"I have a tower?!" Merlin asked in excitement, his eyes growing wide.

"Yes," Arthur laughed. "Would you like to take a look around?"

"Yeah!" Merlin cried excitedly, hopping down and running over to an open book that had illustrations of magical creatures in it. "Arthur, look at this!" he exclaimed.

The king wandered over and sat on the floor next to his best friend, a warm smile on his face as Merlin's innocent magic reacted instinctively in excitement. Figures of the creatures in the book appeared in the air, dancing around out of magical smoke. Leon and Gwaine shared an amused glance.

"Shall we come back later, sire?" Leon called.

Arthur waved his hand distractedly, dismissing them. Once the knights had left, he turned to Merlin and ruffled his hair, his eyes softening as his little brother complained and batted his hand away.

"Arthur!" he grumbled while trying to fix the dark locks on his head.

The king chuckled. "Sorry. Say, Merlin, can you show me something?"

The five year old tilted his head as he stared at the king curiously. "With my magic?"

"Yes," Arthur nodded, his heart pumping faster in anticipation.

"Sure. What do you want me to do?" Merlin asked with an eager smile.

The king leaned in close and whispered his request in the little warlock's ear. Merlin's responding grin was wide as his eyes lit up with the pure magic that flowed through his veins.

The windows streaming in sunlight were suddenly cloaked in darkness, the entire tower filling with the shadow that only night could bring. Small specks of white energy began to paint their way through the inky black atmosphere, lighting up the room just enough for Arthur's smile to be seen. The delight in the king's eyes was reflected in Merlin's as the two enjoyed an anomaly they'd shared so long ago.

 _This was what started it all_ , Arthur silently mused as he lay on the floor and stared up at the constellations. While his little warlock had introduced him to many innocent spells, this particular one was the defining moment of their shared destiny. For with this spell, Arthur's heart was changed towards magic forever and its legalization had begun. Now his kingdom thrived, his best friend was happier than he had ever seen him, and the lands were almost united under one rule.

"Thank you, Merlin," he muttered as the little warlock settled down on the ground next to him.

"For what?"

"For everything you've done," he smiled.

Merlin smiled back. "You're welcome."

King and warlock stayed where they were for hours, both celebrating the magic that had changed them in so many ways, that had brought them together and created the beginning of a new time and a shared destiny: the time of Albion and the Once and Future King.

 **The End**

* * *

 **Thank you all so much for coming with me on this journey! I've experienced a lot of life changes while writing this and I'm grateful its been a means for me to cope through it all. Thank you for your reviews, your prayers, and your encouragement. I wish you all well and hope that you will leave me with one last review. Long live the King (and Merlin)! - Pumpkinmoose22**


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